cause I know you by heart

i wasn't ready for this, caught up in the things
the moments and people who've never mattered
but you, you changed everything about me and i didn't even have the self to look you in the eye as you said goodbye.
your love, you are something i could hold all day long and never ever tire of
i'll wear it infinity, infinitely you're inside
my heart, my eyes, the way i talk, react, write, think, speak
even my voice is yours
i wasn't ready for this, i'm a coward kindly waiting
to deserve, what you've been given
my heart is yours i want you to know--whoever, wherever, with-ever you might be
my songbird, hurricane, my stolen car
on a street where you and i will forever be kept, in the rain, holding hands
touching, i wanted so badly to taste your lips
your smell lays on my skin, like it's always been
tonight were you might be laying your head
i wasn't ready for this.


"I Know You By Heart" - Eva Cassidy

Warmth en doors

when your foot hit the groundand the water surround
cascade, it fell in upswept hurricanes around
our heads, hips, bare legs, and feet
we ran down that canopied concrete, we ran
hats soaked to a matted head
2 in the front, 3 in the back
driving, speeding, evening traffic
Stone Mountain men, drizzling, laser lights projected
laughter carried frisbees and fat, lazy summertime Georgians
out on a day like today, that day
the sky fell to spite them

him.
The day we met, we split
dinner, flash photography
foursome
never have we been so happily unknown

you taught me to inhale when i took a bite
Talk Tonight Mona Lisas
and Madhatters in a Spanish city, tunneling
little silver discs don't stop believin'
I'd forgotten how good your smell felt on my tongue
standing in the driveway, 2 AM, you're alive with music
those hands light skin on the space right above the small of my back
I'd forgotten how it felt when you held me
ten times in a row
I had to leave before I remembered,
what it felt like to kiss you.

I'd forgotten how much I missed you.

"Tupelo Honey" - Van Morrison

the airport, if necessary

to lose
and the emptying is such a release
release, you've been gone for so long now
i can scarcely remember
the way the slit of your eyes tilt towards,
the way the sun hints at mine
and i've seen them before but the old and the young pretend not to know
midday, one another
how easily we are strangers in Midtown City, eyes catch
we see one another and there, is, no, response
to a heart that once shed itself bare when sickening thoughts filled
a mind, a mouth of consecration, tie me
to a heart that binds, binding words flowing
through an early, early morning line
you bide your time until
She
comes
home
you'll forget and hold her hand and you'll
forgotten, two years prior, the one, that, was there
despite whatever pitfalls you might've seen,
she flew 532 miles, it falls
she's sitting
waiting
1 dozen roses, ocean blue she's waiting
and you
never get it,
you never come.

decorum and fragment

i'm up and over
spilling down the sides
of a cup, ridges, solo

marching in a solid, straight line
facing forward, sturdy
stern--ridgid watching
it, pour out of you
you're solo, on a stage
but you belong, the warmth
you'll never question who you are; you've taken over.
simply

i cry, on the street
crouched on the corner, brick wall, by the bookstore
i left the place you'd once comforted me
i slip my hands underneath, take you into me
you're gone, one last time, i don't wait
no hugs
no last dance, kiss where jaw meets cheek
you'll leave no music to color my memory
you'll leave no footprints, because you chose this fame
my bed stays empty, lopsided where a brand new pillow lays
you'll leave--the one i knew--you did
months before
you were gone
i'd never been asked to stay the night

and i'm still here, i'm still the same person,
i'm still running, i'm still laughing
i am still the same voice
i am
still
running.
i rest a moment, i study

stone billows knew

and when you know that you know that you know that you know
what can you do except go to sleep? what can you do but curl yourself--
into 3-plied thickness. i'm sick of writing about sex.
sick of writing about events, and people, and places i've never been
the imaginations a sickening thing, and it's never your fault, fault cannot be given-
when it just is. it is. this isn't poetry. it's the lines dissecting the beat that never changes
it's a memory i can't give up but can never relive, can never make because you're gone
to go is permanent, and permanence is never something easy to "just deal"-chosen or not
i'd rather spend my evenings with a phone strapped to my ear then reading
from a text i'll forget, in a day or two, maybe more
there are things about me i hate-things i pick at on a 20timesdaily basis
would medication make it any better, any worse, anything? would you medicate me if you could, would your group therapy work? what if i already know (i do)
i know all the definitions, symptoms, even the therapies;
it has changed nothing.
i am that bubbly, that honest, that frank and easy and real, i have the body of a mother & a runner, my body is confused, confusing and i don't think i could operate otherwise; but sometimes i'd like to. should i or shouldn't i give it up?
i'm 19--i'm 20--i'm alone, i'm everyone/everywhere/everything--anything you want me to be, i'm you in a nutshell, your female form
you'll never admit it (even to yourself) and if you hurt me i'll accept it, you knew it from the start. fed me, antagonized me; you gave me drink when i was thirsty and you simply drank me up.
i've never had a back massage i didn't ask for first. i've never gotten flowers sans ulterior motives.
i've never been
there

i have to become something professional, i have to be the professional
to lose my voice
to lose my fervor
to lose my dynamic, spectrum of collegiate depression
to loose
porous
i'm afraid, i'm scared
i'd like to be held, cradled--but i won't beg or play
i'm afraid, i'm the pawn, outside the game-
i'm the iron.
monopoly, get it?
i'm above and below you-in reality i want you
and it might be only because you want me, easily
it all could be so easy-i'm afraid, i'm not the girl
arms extended, upward lifted herself, onto the countertop (herself)
as you, she caught between the grasp of her thighs (clothed mind you)
she looked into your renewed eyes (2 weeks and counting), she thought you got it
your hands on her wastes, she held you completely to her, connect, connect and-
she kidded herself into believing it was that perfect fit--1 year
you checked and checked and double checked, ADD borderline OCD
you kissed her, the best she's ever had, she caught your lower lip in her tiny embrace
she got it, you let it linger-pressing familiarity into her bite--God it tasted so sweet
you left her that night--she freaked--she came
they spent the night together, drunkenly you slipped her tongue into another girl
she's just a girl. you took your familiarity and pressed hers into everyoneelseyouknew

this is not a poem. not poetry. there are no signs of someone else in here.
just me, and i have to
be afraid,
professional,
taken, envious
silent-bubble

i have to watch you go. unfinished.
i have to relieve myself of fault.
i'm almost 20 years old in a 35 year old's mind, sometimes...i have hot flashes
sometimes, only because my body gets confused--catches up---
my hips of a mother's mind

february 13th

to hold you closer in the broad daylight
as you walk through the door, you yourself tug, at every single one of the notes you've ever sung, ever left inside of me
each of them separated in neat little rows
winding through
in, and in and out
and tomorrow will be just like any other day, and the day after that

but today
this weather
was worthy of a photograph, was worthy of standing still
on a wind worn oceanlit sand in the middle of February
it might've been the outline of your tanned head
shoulders, arms
torso, pelvis
thinning legs, the muscles in your calves
even your heels
and still i've never felt you
and still you rarely call, rarely do you hear me
even when i'm screaming, singing, kicking, laughing
with, at, around, beside you

so the sand goes unsettled
the sun balance-beams across the sky, it rains
midday

and we went to school & to work
we drank our coffee, dripping wet
i suck the drops off my own skin, my own

you never saw me leave, even when the bell rang, you didn't look up--not once