Slugs into snails

Its nights like these
With her
I can lose my sense
Of time
So many nights broken
Despite our mutual
Perpetual fright
Of the sun
How we both dread the moment
It's over
And how we're always
The last one up
But when she leaves
Like this
Like she did tonight
my dog looks at me like she's going to speak my tongue
And My cat looks at me in a way so she doesn't have to.
It's a breath
And
I need it every so often

Beamings of a fire parrot

Morning glory:
how you
Hold your light.

Gladiola:
your frightening height.

I’ve no captures,
Of your might.

Sweet bewilder:
Carry my sight.

Solstice

Unwritten and unboring
Thumped on the thumb drum
Silent and unassuming
She's always been the one

Skinned knees over
Broken plastic
Laughter over static
sounds of Silence
Memories over that market
And the public toilets

Hurting to be read
Hurting more to be known
Unwritten
I can tell she edits
After it's published
I can't tell you the words but
My mind tinkers when
It's seen a new; and anyway
It's different and
Before it's noticed
So she thinks
As I do

Swapped paintings
And new beginnings
It was so very
hard to part
Without a picture
So I took one
Anyway

for my father in june

I sent you an email recently, thanking you for being who you've always been after reading a series of confessions from many who are without. I didn't get specific then, but I will now. I owe you everything for having always believed in me, pushing me, instilling the importance of a good stretch. Thank you for always painting me with a different brush, writing me letters, showing me the things you know I'll appreciate, loving my mind, and never running out of advice, (or martinis) to share. Thank you for teaching me to admit when I'm wrong, cry when I'm sad, and laugh until my guts hurt. Thank you for your sentimentality, our talks, our sits, our love of Cat Stevens; Thank you for always trying to understand, even when you don't. I love you.

Watching the house cat
outside in this green,
Pouncing at the dandelions,
Batting at the bees.
He is as young as this heat
but remains unleashed,
He is free in mind,
and able to reach.

She stays sprawled in the Sun
or the shade of the deck,
But she is tied at the back
and attached at the neck.
Is it the knowing of the length
she can crawl?
Does she know she can’t get far at all?

I am like her unless I am
Free to to reign,
To be without clocks
Or a time to claim.
Then i am the one, with less knead
Outdoors, collared without a line
To breach.
I like dandelions but not quite bees,
I’m not totally endless,
but I’m certainly unleashed.

How

it always hurt to know i was written

but now it hurts to not be read at all

but now in harsh, human construct

of communication and the way she pushed

me to the ground I've always stood on

under the hair now holier than i have ever had

I'm okay here, and

I'll see Her sometime, and Her too

and somehow triangles form from a single

dot and

and I'm not even sure how they happen

at all

some things i haven't been ready to say until now

1. We should have been together from the start.

2. I'm no longer hurt by her birdie photos and her incessant mouthings of the l-word

3. After seeing her again, I've realized she isn't hurt either.

4. For a time I thought I needed what has since left me, but now I know I am going to be okay, because:

i) like every spring we rekindle only this time permanence feels seemingly plausible

ii) i said we were bad for eachother but what i really meant is i'm bad for you too

iii) i said i was bad for you too but what i really meant was that we aren't bad for eachother, and i feel that influence is fueled by a wanting and needing and its not your fault i'm wanting and needing what you have access to, nor is it mine you are wanting and needing what i have access to. i am afraid when we feel this way we are letting the stigma we have tried so hard to discard seep back into our pores and are forgetting the experience we paid for. We are responsible for ourselves and we are far from denial

iv) i've really taken to heart a lot of the hurtful things she said and forgotten all the things she asked me to remember (see: "i thought you had more kindness in your heart")

v) She told me she needs resolution or she can't see his eyes and i compared it to something i felt last summer when one was talking about being dropped so rapidly she forgot she was doing much dropping herself.

vi) i really, really don't believe She is capable of a lie

vii) when i am with Her, it becomes seemingly obvious She is embodied truth

viii) when She reiterated, you are such a good person, i believed Her

ix) Her's is a struggle i'm willing to share

5) she is a complete and utter hypocrite. I hope she finds a mirror soon.

6) Years of lettered talk doesn't always end up in beauty

7) It isn't possible for someone to know too much about you, unless you've accidentally fallen under their spell.

8) When I say "you", I no longer mean You. Please understand I can't write to You anymore like I'd once said, and this will be the last time You will feel Yourself here.

9) I'm surprised I've mourned this long, but also that its over.

9) My father is proud of me.

10) I know what I am doing, and I hope it hurts.

May 16

Closed hearts keep smiles
This time last year was panting
Dripping from our pores
I'm still on this porch
Like last year talking of
Going into That room again
If it were
Just the three of us girls
We would have
But his logic seeped into us while we were in a state of constant sway
And we went again but not that day
After cuddled and held in all parts of us
I even rubbed his neck the night before
Here I sit dripped still
But in raindrops
And alone this time
The first picture she ever wore
In her back pocket
Hidden behind the shoes
In the front hall

INTERVIEW

5. Do you have any last advice or words of wisdom for aspiring artists?

Stop thinking.

Read more from an interview about painting I did with The Young Curator.

“Mommy? You don’t just cry when you’re sad right? Because sometimes I look at Devon and I just love her so much I wanna cry tears of happy!”- Adam Sioui, May 1986

Brother, you are 29 Today. For 25 of those years, you have served as my older sibling; my rival, my nemesis, my partner-in-crime, my shoulder, my mentor, my birthday-buddy, my biggest fan and My Best Friend. From hearing Y’s voice in Ode to LA, to our unified ability to move our left baby toes, I am so unbelievably proud to have you as my brother. I love you. Happy Birthday.

Mom, you gave us life. That is so fucking insane.

Thank you for showing me first hand what it is to unconditionally love another human being. Thank you for accepting everything I throw at you and always doing your best to make sense of it. Thank you for always loving me even when it’s not easy. Thank you for my life.