As I find myself,
I don’t find you.
You are now
disapated into a
swiss holed memory.
The ash that paints
the day to dusk.
Blanketing
the remorse of
airplanes and I love yous.
I take the Clementine route of
impulse.
The chosen vacancy;
I forget you.
-b
I can feel your relief
sink into the pit
of my unwanted corridors.
The closing click of a corrosive
exchange in in weary words.
I find myself lost in translation.
You find yourself beneath
what can not be designed.
You fade into me for safe keeping.
Snatched from the tangible.
The creaking corners of our limbs forced to stretch.
Alone we grow.
Together we dream.
-b
This is a poem I wrote over a year ago that I found tucked away in my journal, I’m going to air it out.
Content
The pattern of his sleeve, tiny squares
against the inside of my arm. My cheek,
his cotton covered chest rising; falling.
Hand upon my hair, in the crook of my neck.
The lightest weight upon my ears, and
the sparks from the base of my spine to it’s peak.
A scattering of voices filter down the hall
Winding towards me, raising. Lilting, the
laughter bounces through and off the walls.
I know they have awoken. Too loud for me to sleep,
so admit defeat and join the all-too-early harmonies
of clink and jabber.
Waves and waves before me, reach where the golden
surface of the earth I meth, smiling below the vivid,
electric lid of space. Sundried orange leaves, their green
fruits shelled. A private-public paradise of a naked body
beneath a cotton towel.
Sinking into where I am more than I’ve ever felt.
-b
Oct. 13th, 2010
That moment when you get a brief, but significant insight into someone elses life, and see them through a new lense and you become recharged with their words and also heavy with their insides and all at once tangled in their emotions.
THAT just happened to me.
Change is suffering past each second with the stark prickle of awakening.
You have friends, and warmth. Stress, and strain. Ambition, and ambiguity.
You have love bubbling at the ends of each finger waiting to be tested and used. It’s full potential- a magnetic pull at the regression of a lingering lust.
The shackles of adult liability weigh heavily on the reminiscence of an expired youth-but light fire to the unsettling impatience of desire.
Four letter words are tucked away into each secluded hiding spot. Lungs, cheeks, each rib in your side, and the joints of your eager limbs. Held tight for when your youth can be rearranged into your sedated life and brought into the mirage of a future.
Money, time, responsibility, school, work, opinion, stress, anxiety all abolished in the honor of living for memories that brought back the stark prickle of what is was to be awake.
and breathing.
what is was to open your rib cage and embellish risk into the core of restrain.
what is was to be free and young.
what is was to churn fresh lust into the yellow hue of an unchained bird.
-b
a shadow casted on a thin wall.
the electric lid of space sent spiraling
with silhouette bodies, tangled into one
core. their words never buoyant to be heard-ingested into
the safe of promiscuity.
released like balloons into a misted sky.
they are gone.
the lingering of inadvertence stings in your rose coloured glasses-but all to be left scarred is the notches etched into your post.
and the one you want carved into your palms
is the butterfly against a desert of grains.
-b
