Whimper

This will break the tension. Heat the glands
beneath my eyes, release the mucus
pressure in my sinuses. Make
my mouth dry and my lips hot.

My chest heaves, and my breath’s involuntary beat
becomes a ragged staccato.
Just out of time with
the bass of my being.
Which sounds so loudly now,
in my throat, just below my earlobes.

Externally, the only expression of the
cloudburst, is a whimper that
leaves my lips before
I can breathe it back;
like laughter I long to smother.

Technologically Sensual

This interface feels like
sliding fingertips across space.
Why waste time with buttons,
when you can make a machine
respond to touch like human skin.

Idol-Hands and Throwing-Stones

This one’s going to be trouble;
can’t you see it in her eyes?
Her fingernails are dirty,
there are grass stains on her thighs.
She wears pants instead of dresses,
and her lipstick is too dark.
She’s been hiding in His playground,
it seems the Devil’s found a mark.

Snowstorm

I’m going to wander into you,
with my coat and my tunes,
my warmest winter boots,
and the coldest soul I can muster.
To watch my breath blow away in the wind,
melting snowflakes, smelling of gin.
I can’t wait to photograph, the 3-5 inches,
the most snow I’ve seen (or will see?)
all winter.  I’ll stand on the bridge
(that bridge) to record the moment where
rivers freeze instead of overflowing.

We’re all on fire.
Just underneath this skin our
souls burn bright, with life.

The only question
is how: to keep it fueled; to
not burn out too soon.

Ace

Hollow, Dice, Prepare

When you break, fight the urge
to break others.  Resist the desire to rip your way
through the colors in your new lover's eyes;
to pierce inward, from the apple to the core,
and gut the seeds of their infatuation.
To blind any fool who dares to dream of togetherness,
and bothers to conceptualize cohabitation. Your heart knows better,
surviving darkness is no reason to help it spread.
Maybe love's first trauma is our chance at salvation.
An opportunity to use the bitter, rotten taste
as a reference for sweetness, and not a recipe for revenge.
Isn't heartbreak, like the inevitability of death,
(or the similarities between The Tooth Fairy's handwriting and your mother's)
just another of the disappointments learned in life and growing older?
A lesson that we each suffer through in our own time?
Why not save such dark deeds for dark beings.  Those with hard
hearts that will never be broken.

Run.

I have been released,

but your power's hold on me

was your protection.