On The Nature Of Daylight

I'm falling _____ the way that the sky dips into the earth . Letting the emotions pour into the landscape at times and then getting restless and surfacing. I'm falling ___ with K because of the way his bottom lip hair cradles my bottom lip. fix this because there's nothing more misleading than the promise of midnight coffee and drinking the fat off of the stagnant stout brew of harsh smoke. 

Francesca would know the feeling, her portraits would speak to me in a way that I thought was impossible for a woman's body to be so potent. every shift of her translucent veins fades in and out of reality. there's a small bee crawling under chest, leaking honey through her amber arteries. he closes her eyes and a writes a poem in thin, swirled black lines around her rice paper belly button. with every new line, honey seeps out like blood. Benjamin clutches her arm like it's a crutch, grasping onto her collar bone, and digging his fingers into the nape of her neck. the lights flutter, making the world look like a scene from an old projector. a light through a fan on his back, defining the soft muscles under his skin.  

I'd like to be the clothes you wear on my doorstep but I miss the sensation of you and your secrets whispered in the deaf of the night. Sweat on the bottom of your lip, every molecule crushed with the realness of life and love. This sadness drips from Valentine's open mouth, i can smell the rose's from here. each one a memory i ache to forget. when his mouth opens, flowers leak out of the cracks in his dry lips.     

Dark Center of the Universe

i shut my eyes and you're always there. perfect hair perfect lips perfect voice cooing to me from outside of the 2 a.m. night window. i cut my wrist on the windowpane, a scar left from too little medication and i bleed strawberries, lean out and kiss you the most delicious transference of nature (how sweet the sound-

i can feel it dripping down my thighs, the baby screaming across the street, the man working eternally on the garden in our front yard. i hand him tonic water and pomegranate juice and it sticks to his teeth while i wait for time to catch up with my bones

our eyes locked for a moment

my days blend together until they are only separated by the amount of medication left in the pill bottle at the end of the week or how many smiles ive collected in my pockets at the end of the day

they said my name so many times it wore thin and scraping against the cement run over and shit on by beautiful huskies.

i heard the rain before i saw it, decidedly too gorgeous for this day. not today. not this day, it is soo dark today. my nose froze against the door before i would open it. my mother screamed when she saw the bath water, her face paling in comparison.

-que paso guerita?

-nada...

-como estas?

-bien, gracias, y tu?

-ohhhh, that's mechanical. you don't know sad in spanish or you would have told me you were sadder than the day is grey. why?

my teeth shatter in the garden, bees fluttering, coming to see what the dream was.

The Wolves

the trees wept silence

falling gently into the 3 a.m. sleepsweat

blood the color of dreams,

and the boy slipped off the ledge,

face flexing into a full moon night,

all beauty and blossoms that blushed and were too shy to open

what kind of night is this

but one of nostalgia

and the late night purring babys breath on the front lawn

her nose exploded into the flower of the soft spot between my nose and mouth

all white and lavender

the center the liquid light honey

bea,

when you come fresh faced and proud

the angels will use stars as lassoes and reel you back among them

to sing them the songs of your lucid moments

under nights putrid blanket they'll wink at me

and promise that every ugly crow be your blue eyes

so natural blue

stained with profound waves ebbing liquid gasps

Beach Baby

two ativan later I still can't keep track of my breath. i watched it escape out of the window a minute ago skipping across the lawn to have late night fornications with the flower under my window. i look at my hair, let it slip down my neck from its ponytail, and run my fingers through it, still cold from the stale air in the car, and I can't figure out what to do with it so I cut it off and feed it to the cats across the street. a crazed smile cascades across his face, the edges of it playing in his hairline and twirling themselves into his thin blond follicles of hair. the wind from outside pushes in through the crack in the window, freezing my lips as it touches them. i peel the skin from my bottom lip, leaving it raw and red begging to be cradled. he kisses me and the blood drips from his chin and onto my chest, puddling in the dip in my collar bone. she's motioning from outside and her toes are digging into the ground as she stands on tip toes, scraping away years of dust and grime like a healer.

my body turns into water on the bed, every breath condensing me and every exhale separating the molecules until i lay clear and rippling across the bed. the dog drinks from where my stomach should be, lapping up the water like a deprived creature. i stood at the gate and let you kiss my forehead. my shirt bundled and hugged my back and the honeybees swarmed around my feet, helping me stay up. I make a four leaf clover with my tongue, feel my tongue go numb.

Cold

my hands tremble, the warm water washing over my body. the water hits the walls sounding too loud. my heart flutters under the skin covering my throat, all the muscles and veins throbbing in synchronization. my senses are too clear, i feel my whole body moving with my pulse, look down and see it pulsing too fast. my vision blurs, bile rises in my throat. there is blood dripping from where my fingernails used to be. i kneel, letting the water hit my back, and my hands rest on my thighs. the blood runs in streams from each finger, diluting as it travels down the slope of my bare thighs. there are blisters forming on my palms, starting as clusters of tiny sacs filled with clear fluid. as i bite at them, they turn into raised bumps resembling mosquito bites. my feet are clammy against the flesh of my lower back in spite of the scolding water hitting my back. i look at my body and don't feel any sort of attachment to it. i'm looking at myself from the ceiling corner. my spine is raised as i haunch over my bleeding hands. the emotion on my face is as blank and as white as the marble of the bathtub i am kneeling in, the only part of my body visible my eyes, hair, and red streams of blood. the water steams around my face illuminating the lifelessness that plasters over it.

Neice

I watch as the boy steals glances, his face covered by 800 thread sheets and when i woke the latin boy would stroke my hair while I lay on his chest and whisper to me that it was time to kiss him. there isn't a sound in the world that could emulate your shoulders and the intricate lines that weave in and out along your spine. serotonin filled my fingertips and her fingers pressed against my throat, her belly touching mine, and her smile piercing my nostrils. the air was sharp and tinted reds and yellows. she runs, and the needles come crashing down, pinning her in a million places throughout her body. her taloned feet point one last time before she's lifted with the needles as they ascend back into their place. and just like he said i would, i slipped she says pushing her body harder into mine and snaking her hand around to the back of my head to take a handful of my hair and throw my head to the side so I can feel her lips and her warm breath against my ear. my eyes drift shut as I watch her body slide in stages off of the silver needles.

whisper, is this what ____ feels like?

she grins to me from her place two feet in front of me and beckons me with a flick of her foot against the floorboard. the wood instantly turns to glass where her foot touches. her hands delicately turn me so my back is to her and she moves the hair from the nape of my neck, her hands drifting to rest on my pulse.

whispers, shhh, baby, shhhhh, licks my ear.

my fingers crack open at the creases where my palms reach to meet them and reveal a canyon of sacs filled with clear liquid and little toy babies all waiting to grow. my eyes were numb and my ears rang as I ascended the stairs, hair sticking to my temples, the bones in my knees grinding against each other. my grandmother kneels in front of me, her eyes blue, face pointed like a fox, and takes my hands. she presses them to her chest and they sink into the firm skin that lies there, tearing a hole. she smiles and her mouth is filled with honey bees. they crawl out of the corners of her eyes, her ear canals, her nostrils. I retract my hands, cupping them as I do, and honey drips from my fingers and the various organs resting in my palms. she keels over and her head lands in my lap, her blue honeymoon dress soiling on the pavement.

babies were lined in rows on platters, each one in a different stage of decay; eyes hanging from sockets, skin as purple as a ripe bruise. someone bites, chews, and a grey eyeball hangs from a vein in his mouth. he smiles, and blood drips from his mouth onto his chest and veins layer his teeth, hiding the enamel completely. i look up and a ceiling mirror reflects what's happening on the floor below, men and women hunched over what could be a normal dinner ferociously digging into their meals , and notice a child walking toward me. when i look down, she's right in front of me, one eye focused on mine, and the other skewed to the floor. she lifts a bloody finger to her lips, opens her mouth and starts to scream.

Baby Bleu

Curdled blood hung from the ceiling and the walls were made from veiny arms and legs, all reaching and kicking. Bile dripped from my mouth as a thousand eyeballs glanced at me from under the glass floor. The wind blew and I felt the ghost of a hand on the back of my neck, forcing me closer. He laid in the field, one eye skewed to the side the veins bluish and black tints caused by months of rotting. I could feel your bones as they ground together while I held you in my arms, and your mouth opened as if gasping for air.