the crash

Truth is to forget underwater how the waves crash beneath the seam how the waves crash truth in seconds how under the shower I crash how in dreams I collide with colossus and tragedy and conquer/ uninhibited, un-able to drive seed to stem. Truth: I forget to crash beneath and end up above the waves in holy love thinking this…

Rate this:

sharks in the ocean

Before there were sharks in the ocean, there was only the relief of hot skin cooling in the Miami Beach summers. Waves crashing and joyfully jumping to get above them. Loud and not loud at all an endless crash same way my heart will crash without my knowing. My father smoked Cuban cigars on the balcony at night when I…

Rate this:

us, mirror

The way of a mind like a seedon the wind floats up instead of with the windsomehow, or people bornwedged in sidewalk cracks deep away from the sunknow where happiness resides tumbling upon its arrival:in this I feel almost a lucky misfit. Even a self divided is scattered like pageslost within the house with no binding. I see windows in…

Rate this:

When the War Ended

It’s a sad story, the drowning man in a cloud of fists the first thing in morning woken thinking of yesterday and swinging wide like a boxer finds the finish when he splays on the mat, hair absurd and wet for just a fight in his memories of fire and rush of the way the sun shocked when he woke…

Rate this:

~how to grace

I have lived surrendered in hopetied loose like the truthin my mouth is loose or a startled face is composedloosely as a cloud siftsthe light of the day/ it was Mary’s sorrow uponthe backs of ladybugs; thatis a story people told to explain the marof black. to become echoes painting poppies on darkspace of nowhere andnobody, just the brightest poppy…

Rate this:

i.

Become a mouth-breaking exclamation, a sigh sorting memories into the box of photographs the turn of a projector or maybe a suspicion of beauty in others, like a freckle tucked away beneath makeup: how suffering so often is a lone subject/ a whale song caught in caves of ice or upon the lips of sleepy bears filling with weary resolve…

Rate this:

Who We Are

There are too many versions of self lost from many iterations/ I seeping in tender aggression over it/ I, containing all echoes resounds and thinks in-between such things where associations flow without influence: I wonder if the truth is there same like a stem makes a leaf makes a tree in infinitum ‘the way of the way:’ waves rising out…

Rate this: