101 - 115

things i am proud of

my milk crate bookshelf

and free boxed jean jacket, my

college diploma.

it's just a dust storm, it will pass

oh sweet date, you are

the sand in my eyes, mirage

of an oasis.

rough draft #1

when there's more ink on

your hands than on the page, it's

time to take a break.

again, I've over packed.

my bag sat for h'rs

before suddenly spilling

my day on the floor.

for travels near and far

sleep chart is set with

cartesian coordinates.

now nap the data.

self portrait #2

I keep thinking that

that photo is a mirr'r and

I haven't changed much.

if it's you, I don't mind

sitting in a tree

I'm hanging onto your limbs,

all my words gone numb.

come in

lockless key windchime

rings a refrain down, unchained,

in the open grass.

attached/free

I wanna be her:

soft lobe pressed against your chest,

listening, transfixed.

10

meditation is

my shy sky medication

cloud brain brings the rain

with one stone

'stay up, early bird!'

'it's way too late, night owl!' great,

now who do I coo?

my dear jeppa, you are pregnant!

blue dress electric

incubator, charged wild growth

contained but for now.

untitled #6

there's a slight chill, you

close the window with force

undue, i shiver.

on that old mountain trail

gravel, your voice spews

kicking up your point like rocks

thrown through timber teeth.

(if this title was an image it would be of an ouroboros. but instead of a snake, it'd be a tube sock)

walking to buy thread

to fix the hole in my sock

I got from walking

76 – 100

ayudame

sometimes i need help

remembering where i am

who, for that matter

. . .

unfinished business:

i will do all that i can

to avoid it.

constance

rivers change course for

a reason, but see, son, an

ess is still an ess

dog ears and a cracked spine = loved.

I bought you a book

and scratched out the title.

you read into it.

well at least I didn't use abbreviations

'it would be easy,

just as, to talk in person,'

I text from my room.

that's not exactly what i meant

i spat on my arm

biking to meet you. wind put

a spin on my words.

cinnigmatic

you don't cook at all

or chew gum, yet you somehow

smell of cinnamon

this natural disaster

butterfly monsoon

i read all about you from

my quicksand armchair.

bare as the floor

this meal tastes of dust.

your shirt having, lost your smell.

i use now to sweep.

in days past I would have held your hand

present like drift wood.

sand gives to foot prints, waves take.

here, we should head back.

Now can I have your phone number?

I was charmed by you

before I knew your cat's names:

Ben Purr and Fish Tank

that one first kiss

a submarine dive

- couldn't have breathed if i tried -

sunlit resurface

why is it I never see you?

you moved to Georgetown.

well, shit, you might as well live

in Olympia

and I never write back

mi abluela sends me

paper planes flown over flames

coughed prayers to the air

gunpowder green

a tight wound leaf sinks

hot bath unfurls a steep sleep

floating in high heat

dear moon

i know you are up there

but thru the veil of soft clouds

sometimes i forget

a cavity's lament

I floss. Oh, but why?

to remind myself, it seems,

of the taste of blood.

strike (anyw)here

watch the blue spark flame

struggle to life, fantastic!

curled black burnt matchstick.

I love you #3

I don't want to eat

so much as to taste the words 'hey,

honey' off your lips.

I'm living fine (art) without you

I wouldn't bother

coming back. you're the source of

my inspiration.

untitled #5

you burst in, all flames

set to consume. 'Fuck,' i think,

having just drunk oil

frozen objections to being put in glass jars

expand to stillness

to the echo of crystals

then cold cold silence

flightless birds

why fly through the air?

legs get you there. And for food,

you dig in the dirt.

thank you for the thoughtful gift

I christened the whisk

you gave me on chowder that

took me an hour.

static-y reception

I am one of those

people who switch the station

during their pledge week.

61 - 75

humans, sometimes

skeletons! we're just

bare, just barely not knocking

into each other.

anchor afloat

bubble on a breeze

balloon on a tree

i'd rather be caught in limbs

you leave me un-offended

so deep in your groove

you pass by you don't see me

a tree in a grove

on noticing that your dog sports an NBA collar

difficult, i find,

to believe your dog is a

boston celtic's fan

close enough to touch, close enough to feel

yawning or yelling

from here i can't tell if you're

crying or laughing

you make me nervous

your gray eyes alive

swing past like poe's pendulum

slick sweat on metal

seasoned.

you spent all of spring

molting your old ways only

to fall back to them.

bitter, robust

those coffee fueled words

spouting from your mouth could use

hella more sugar

tea date #1

loose leaves risk rides on

oxygen pockets to steal

kisses from your lips

(it's an excuse!)

not to brag at all

but I do my best writing

the night right before

this is my first spring

I climb trees to learn

if a leaf is born knowing

to fly or to fall.

historian

you've been written in

to my bed. crumpled sheets by

my cold feet. ink stained.

(ok, really it's a) Turkish Yurt Door

I bought a rug with

mud already caked in so

I can say I've been.

surmise the sunrise

you yawn like you scream

you got teeth like the Cascades.

night bites at your heels.

I miss you #2

you fit in my mouth

like a spoon, so well. hunger-

only when you are gone.