These are the rains I love

My shoes slosh as I pedal

Every square inch of fabric

Heavy with the downpour

Monsoon season in Michigan

The weather is the only thing

Alive in MI

Coco
Dogs
Socks
Babies
Books
Pressure pressure
Its everywhere
In these four walls
All we do is
Bounce off one another
And smoke a bowl
And go to bed
And wake up
To wage war against our opinions
Sometimes this whole world seems so
Opaque
Can you see me through the lines of dialogue?

Just as the seasons change
the tires grind fallen leaves to dust
as they tug you farther away
the distance is only physical
I have to remind myself
like a prayer to a deaf deity.
Once again I feel fragile in the
face of winter
the thought of all those barren miles
of snow covered corn fields crushes me.
The warmth of one feather comforter
is all I have left to defend against
the chill that invades
every part of me.

I suppose its
hidden in the way I move
most of the time
you can’t see the barbed wire girl
protruding from beneath
my porcelain skin.

The lacerations they leave behind
probably don’t ache for long,
lacking venom
they are more like paper cuts
to the unsuspecting ego.

What better muse than myself
with such armaments
the only thing I have to fear
is a lack of love
from the dull witted and diluted
campus drunkards
which is to say, nothing.

sometimes I wonder
why it is that I can’t sleep
when there is an empty place.
I am just another
in a long line of codependents
I am just another
in a long line of arguments.
my father proposed to my mother
in a Mexican restaurant,
I was a little collection of cells
multiplying and dividing
just like the one inside my sister.
but that one was planed
and therefore,
will never feel like the weak glue
holding her family together.
The wedding band
is just a symbol
for what I created
by my creation
and my fathers catholic upbringing.

I kissed you goodbye

as the thunderheads rolled in.

The whispers of our history

chased me across the blacktop.

The bitter taste of tequila

greeted me after the storm had passed

not enough to make the hours

roll by as fast as the clouds had.

Sometimes I feel like a titan

poised to cut the whole world down

at the center of a tempest.

At night I nestle next to you

the humidity sinking into our skin

layers of fabric the only thing

that ever comes between. 

I writhe around
On my bed
Mid-afternoon sunlight
Pours through my
Barley there shades
And there’s something about
Those little breaths
In my ear
That makes me
Be here
With you
And I think
The soundtrack
To this moment
Is a thousand years long.

The saltwater is
the amniotic fluid
of the whole planet
we all came from the sea
we all go back
for vacation
hold your breath
and float in
the water
the air
and the sky
they all hang above and below you
like your suspended
in the quite part of the world.
and on this balcony they stretch forever
the moon is to direct a light source
to give this the proper ambiance
And the stars are so small
over that navy expanse
you could wear them
around your neck.

sometimes the way the light hits the mirror
I could still see you standing there
like a bruise that never fades
red eyes can’t hold a gaze.

a man made of words
takes an eraser to his canvas
now he is a threadbare document
no way to repent
all that he spent
trying to build his fortress
out of punctuation and pronouns.

was it your heartbeat or mine
who’s syncopated rhythm
pressed out or in
against me.
this cafe nior
plot line is classic
black and white romance,
soft curls and long lashes
as I dance across the
wet gravel
in some floor length gown
in a shocking Technicolor tone
as I race to meet you
in this twilight
someday the bright lights
will wash out the sunsets.