for you.

the floor knows best
and that
you are better than the sum
than the least
than the worst of
your parts -
the floor knows best
and you know
better than to doubt
or bereave
or deny
any bit of your
self.

better

the music he loves
the music and the way
it inhabits fingers
throat
and
mind.
he listens (do you understand?)
he listens and then becomes
a gramophone, a font of words a
mouth overflowing with
the drool of a man
long starved and seated
at a feast long prepared
for him
alone.

comfort

sleep strangely
sleep arms thrown across
the softness of the pillow
and know
with all certainty
with all timidity that i do the same
curled and clinging to
my own set of feathers
scented by your will
and my own persistent need.

beloved

run and i will follow
i whisper and i know
soon and very soon
there will be time
and a place in which
you will know me and believe in
my fingers, hands, legs, mouth,
and waiting lap -
run to me and i will wait
all warmth and the loss of
fear.

broadly bent

standing ready to receive
the ever strangled
curl of fingers -
how the mouth hungers before me;
so far from its property, so near
to my need.
i howl in the mind, i burn in the body,
i ring in the ears: a plague
a refuge, a record, a
blind and striving
hope.

trace

there are no pictures.
evidence is stacked in my closet
of the days spent crafting
perfect words and an
imperfect hope.
there are no pictures.
a butterfly sits on my right shoulder
reminding me of what i always knew -
that you were not made to stay,
only to alight for a brief space
before returning to the sky and
your self.
there are no pictures,
but there is an impression,
and your blood on the bottom
of my shoes.

clean escape

here i sit, dizzy, again,
only this time this night
will end with sleep
that swells and slips between my legs,
buoyed by those who replaced you
and gave what you could not.
yes i still have words for you,
but my love, my love, my love
is still within me and though wasted
it is still
my own to refurbish, yet again
and spend more wisely for the lessons
your mistakes have
taught.