dust swirls down from

endless ceilings

canvas hanging like laundry out to

dry and

vertically they plummet

crush me beneath their majesty

but I focus on the shimmer

dust creates dreams

beneath the pools of warm light

olive greens and

romantic shades of pink

and I wait.

drowning in fabric and cheap

paint and heat and

the audience is silent and I am

invisible

only two eyes peering

out from behind the careful rubble

jagged staples

works of art

and she sings.

she sings behind the makeup and

old hats and

blinding lights

to people she will never meet nor see again but

her heart is on the stage

and I am too.

the lights dim to nothing and the floor rumbles

and I wake up from the dream

I screamed at the hollowness, I raved at its tangy feel

sharp, dull

all the same with days without the sun,

feel the icy edges

and curled fingers deprived of softness to touch,

the night in its thick fibers whispering a song

of bend trees giving in to the wind

and those

that stood tall till the end,

infinity

opened to my fragile breaths,

and I welcomed its embrace

with tired eyes,

watching as the moon dripped down the wet streets

and found its way to my skin

the afterglow of dying lights

marked in clustered stars and freckles

each delicate dot painted

with the same purpose,

to count my time with the tramble and sigh

of your name

always,

and then, when there was nothing else to say

I inhaled the silver of my soul

and exhaled the beating core

claiming it

my sun,

my land,

my home

~ ~ ~

She took me, all I was

Never have I looked back.

She knew me, through the buzz,

Of our hearts melding together.

She saw me in and out,

My anguish like a feather.

She lifted me higher,

I knew not what I would know.

I wish I could hold her like then,

So very long ago.

Six years have passed,

My arrow left it’s bow.

It was a Tuesday in July

When I moved to the city

Garbage day

The sun warmed spoilt milk

and baby diapers and

the insides of yesterday's take out containers

The stench wafted through the streets

As empty bags of chips and crumpled newspapers

Blew across sidewalks like urban tumbleweeds

And I felt alive among the decay

Flowers were nice, but they made me feel ugly

Here imperfections are rendered beautiful

By brilliant shades of neon

And there's a buzzing that comforts me in the dark

When it's hot like that

Everyone sits outside on their front stoops

Drinking bodega beers to the sounds of The Roots

And the only grass anyone's worried about

Is the kind that helps you cut the bullshit

Not your front lawn

It was summer in Philadelphia

On the Waccamaw, the water doesn't have a color.

It becomes a mirror, reflecting every shade of autumn,

every cloud like tangled sheets against the wind's ripples.

And as if the river is a ballroom built for queens,

tadpoles dance around each other in perfect harmony,

until the plop of a bobber echoes between the trees,

and a young man gets a Saturday morning catch,

the click click click of his reel bringing in a small catfish.

Take one:

empty bowl (white)

metal spoon (silver)

open fridge (squeak)

close fridge (stick)

lick spoon (once, twice)

rinse bowl (cold tap)

put out (to dry)

leave spoon (in sink)

when they ask (how was lunch?)

yum, chicken salad ?

lidded eyes and

tendrils of exhaust

how did my hand end up

on top of yours, because i

don't remember anymore

that's one memory, but

what's the real one?

I missed your birthday party

because I didn't want to see

you.

We had all those plans, and

let you in, smiling like you

belonged there, among the books

and the lies i've been telling myself

I cancelled them.

I wonder how you remember it

all, or do you ever even think of me?

Would I like you to?

You must think I'm

some days I'd curl in bed with tendrils

of smoke wrapped through my hair, still

breathing in your attention like

a child, so innocent, i bet, you say to

yourself, under your breath and spiteful

or maybe it's too harsh to think you'd

be cruel and forget me selfish you've

forgotten me, haven't, would i like that?

I wonder how you remember me.

hands barely touching and that's as close

as we're ever gonna get I think I knew that

I knew that then and I pulled away I knew

The real memory is after your birthday.

Cause we never really talked at all after

that. Cause it was better for me, cause I'm

selfish only looking after myself, no niceties

found out I think too late, but I was

discovering it then that I wasn't built

for you didn't belong there, I didn't

for any of it at all, and I had to.

I had to.

We didn't talk because I had to not.

That was okay,

even if you don't remember me

because I've figured it out.

AP classes filled with rising celebrities, whose ways promised most?

Girls organized, focused, and stuck in the ways of influencers-

Attached to waning boys who only knew tomorrow’s release.

On the benches frantically watching friends score and

Rising stars earn tokens to the future, I focused on one test,

Just one thing to tend so I could launch myself into one heart.

I walk past her like a mirror, only catching a brief glance

Each time I passed by followed by a cold shiver

Almost as if I fell right into arctic waters.

I talk to her from a distant fearful of any breath

Moving her away from my fantasies of movie theatres

And red dresses- space age fins, baby blue with chrome finish,

Burning tire smoke, toxic exhaust, this 1950s

Dead love, singing and dancing in the rain stuff,

A teenage boy’s malaise born imagination- a strange drug.

I run wild in sunflower meadows knowing the sun

Will never be greyed out, Working sweet and sour nights

Waiting for the moment I would hold her soft pale hand.

Restraint a million and one, burning esophagus,

Lonesome weekends with you in my head,

Nothing but you....

Printer page walls covered in thumbtack tracks

Friendships hung, false opportunities fashioned, birthdays past,

No ink could replicate my drywall phases, not even the next inhabitant.

In the ways you did when I was a kid, remember when you’d never want me to let go

when you wanted me to hug you longer, we called it the “love hug”?

But now all you want is to be alone; it’s killing me to know you prefer being lonely when I’m here, ready to take you in where the sun is beaming, but you keep me out. It is like you want to suffer in the silence, and now my heart is split; you have me feeling helpless.