august

1.
august heart suffocates--
dogged heat in hoboken,
walk nonetheless deaf to the tremble
of water. does it seem complacent?
settled?
meet you on third, my marine,
eyes lucent, blue unlike the hudson.
unsurprised, no hint of a smile,
and i try to choke my expression.

swell nonetheless--
a noon feeling;
this i try to choke as well.
this i slip past railings black,
into that green vein,
that fat hudson.
2.
he walks quiet, he talks animated,
and i follow at his side, eyes raised
to his rosy smile.

the speech winds to the future,
the present leads to the edge
of the pier--italian ice not even half eaten,
color perched upon his lips.

years take him to the desert,
past books and celebration,
to guns quick with screams--
noon years in hell. i want to ask,
how can you love a nation that kills you?
that kills your brothers unknown until
met at the end of bullets,
their blood speckled in your eyes?

be he is decided, quiet.

and i think, how can i love a man
that has never stopped in my stare?
who can't see me, curled in the sand
at his feet, like a creature caught
in the chaos of nations?

my marine, not mine,
his blue eyes clear to the heart--
his incalcuable noon.
his country cracked in his skin,
peering through blood.

untitled (car crash)

Staring at the ceiling,
five AM--goddamnit, sun.
Rise.
Night on the walls,
like blood before air
Your face silent and calm.

Affinity like the highway,
A stretch of possibility,
always tarmac beneath our feet,
an understanding.

You know what I could only feel,
could never put into words--
intrinsic shock,
East of Eden and afraid
I will never know that someone loves me:

Snakebite of brake lights
red in the air,
A balking.
Thread between cars pulled short,
my ears comprehend the screech of
brakes, no time for a flash,
just the night like blood before air
and the brake lights screaming closer,
closer,
a single thought--
no.

You feel the pitch of my scream through my skin,
the flash of fear, too quick for my pulse,
my uneven breath a casual
intermittent gasping.
All these signals missed by normal ignorance,
but you knew it was the quiet terror of being alone:

Immobilizing fear
like the sky shrinking,
snakebites growing,
then
the smack of chest against seat belt
against airbag
like a building collided with my ribcage
Scream sucked into the
screech of metal crumbling
head knocked into the window.

You let me into your bed,
feel a love that never knew sex
or the oil of intention.
just the quiet attention of
care.

You,
The moment my head snapped back
towards the dashboard, and all I saw
aas the windshield cracked like frost,
glittering spider web of glass,
the sky like blood before air

You,
the rush of breath in my lungs,
panicked, ecstatic,
screaming.

You, the moment of unadulterated sweetness,
the hiss of the engine’s death throes,
the smell of rubber and smoke like
hell on earth, the most beautiful torment.

You,
I wouldn’t trade for heaven.

Your heat, a security,
Your breath, a litany of words I don’t know
how to say aloud--like
thank you for existing.

I didn’t know other people loved
without reason or romance,
that they could love.
No because.

Your eyes, shut,
a soft hem of black,
a thin harbor of skin shining.
Waiting for sunrise in your bed
sleep elusive
your lips smooth and blushed
Thank you for existing.

mute

an absence of language--
she sits on the floor. her fingers
click and tap, her brown eyes, like
a dead leaf, flat and blind.

i sit on my bed, my words
glued to the floor
under dirty clothes and last night's
dinner.

a silent trembling within the air
pervades my skin, pale with the winter
and thin with anxiety.

she clicks
and taps
and stares
a perfect composure,
a polariod snapshot
of our separation.

my muscles tense,
then freeze, longing to
reach or hold or hit--
but nothing.
my tongue thick like an animal's,
all i want to say
i don't know how to say
just scream.

mixed signals

too fast,
tiger. watch yourself.
i'm not a tease-
but a warning.
your arm curls much
too fast
around my shoulder.
your laugh is much
too comfortable,
and much
too loud.
you think nothing
of leaving my bones here,
nestled under a facsimile of
affection.
tsk...you should know
how to stalk your prey.
i've been watching you
from beneath your chivalry,
from beneath your arm.
i've counted your momentum,
found it too quick
to endure--
and sized you up thus:
you are too fast, tiger,
to play this game.

what's awkward is your friends are little girls

vision rests,
his thin frame
a 145 degree angle
against the amp
straight across
his eyes seek mine
and stay.
he knows.
he's known.
he should have the
balls to say it
instead of staring
as if to tempt me
to wave,
as if to tempt me
into starting something.

in defense of the quiet kind

does it mean i'm boring
if i don't talk much when
i don't feel like talking
if i don't bounce off walls
when i'm not drunk
if i don't explode at every moment
and bubble with volubility?

i think excitement
preys on the unexpecting
and stalks them from the
mundane. i see it in the silence
of the quiet, in their bella donna eyes
in the wrinkles of their expression.
i see life behind the quiet,
the buzzing and warbling constant
you cannot always know it
but it is always there,
and this mystery drives
me insane.

flourish--shades of youth

like fungus, they appear
bright and soft,
or dark and fatal,
attitude and aesthetic
in perpetual rearrangement
one night leather, gold,
and liquor--
in the morning, watercolor
plaid and tired jeans,
coffee cradled,
cigarette fuming.