Untitled 2/04/2011

My eyelids flutter softly while I'm grasping onto the last moments of my dream, your mouth on my...before I forge...I've forgotten. The sun creeps over my window and slowly crosses my face, streaking in stripes, through the slits of my blinds against my pink paint, like temporary wallpaper.

I catch you out of the corner of my eye, my first few breathes of the day sending you into a tizzy. Thin and malleable, a thread, or a fuzzy, I watch and discover as I inhale and you waver, exhale and you spin, joyfully, in tune with the rthymic heave of my chest. I don't like that your life is dependent on my every breath, so I must crush you. With a quick pinch, and flick, your movement's extinguished and the air is my own once more.

- I never posted this for some reason, but I just found it and kind of like it.

Sleepwalker

You visit me

in the morning

without permission.

Like a sleepwalker,

you'll never know

the promises you whisper,

the woman you hold,

the bed you frequent,

blocks south

of your own,

when you awaken.

Artists Support Euphemisms

I fantasize about you,

gold rectangles

and red dots.

Colorful shapes

have come to take

the place of

an imagined lover

during interludes

and at nighttime.

And I rather profess

my desire of having

you on my arm,

and not get you,

than be lying that

I never wanted you anyway.