"it’s on but

i don’t know

whether i want

to be

her, fuck her

or borrow

her clothes."

from “the frightening truth about desire” by Daphne Gottlieb

winter never ceases

march 8 or 9th (i don't know)

i am feeling like im paused again

only after a time of constant going

i am still now, trapped in longings of ideas

and all encompassing stillness

when i'm spattering the smears of colours i don't realize

what i am saying and

when i say i am going what I mean is:

Usually, it doesn't last for longer than a few moments at a time.

But, when my limbs are rocking and my body is

buzzing

and the waves of the beef

are swelling my drums

i can hold it for much longer.

i never considered needing it but when i had it,

i was present and going

moving faster than i ever could have thought

and once it left i hadn't been

able to fill

it the same

and

my limbs aren't happy without a hand to hold

and my drums can't live without the laughter when it ended

i want to move again. for some reason, no matter how much i am aware of the doom of the grey when the sun tires of its north, i am always slammed into oblivion or a place that is so blatantly still, i can't even think of anything else to call it. I just know that I'm deep down under everywhere I want to be -- I don't even want to try and claw myself out.

And, Here at the bottom of still the last thing I'd like to do is knife a fucking rainbow.

What do you most miss about childhood?

"Knowing the world was limitless."

july 13 2010

amazing how the best times

are never recorded

at least not in the way

of scribbled placement;

pen to paper

little pilots and their fine black tips

i never used to write like this

rusty, wobbled shapes

remember when i was

the two

(do you?)

feelings of placement

feeling myself living

rather than watching

myself exist

so naturally stimulating

we literally felt high

and if i'd looked down

i may have seen myself

floating

explosions

erosions

and he hasn't come back

A/word

the pokings of the chives from last summer
are drenched with nicotine’d roots
and the incessant blow of the force
Of their arms

Just being.

Just Hi.
Just Hello.
Just resting.
Just enjoying.

Honesty is a hard one
And like I answered earlier
with that table-talk game
kindness is easier

(for me at least)

i have to go home
but i love you
and will see you soon

If you told me you could only love a lover i would understand you

I can only love a lover or
A brother
some people can take in so many
they are filled over
the brim

and i am not
one of those people

i am an often-constant
he could attest to this
fire ants in the 6th month
plaid hats in the 7th
shuttering and finding more hats
thereafter
truth

Just Hi.
Just Hello.
Just resting.
Just enjoying.

Just being.

i've lost it

and i know i'm not getting it back

i've lost you

and i know i'm not getting you back