Ah, the standard of life,
which comes in threes:
Education, career, wealth.
The likes of which we have welded together into a closed circuit.

You smell like green and brown and taste like cotton swabs and trees. When I see you I don't see you but I see rhythmicity. Your skin is liquid chocolate and your eyes are hot green tea. Your mind brings mine to philosophy and not radians nor degrees. I find you in the clouds and in the cycles of the sea, seeing that you say that we're just God in hide-and-seek.

I could listen to this voice for decades.


I think I will.

Perhaps.
Perhappiness.
She asked what my
"SPH" was?

*(Smiles per happiness)

My ears ring.
My mind vibrates.
I answer the call of

another life.

The only difference between you and I is the lettering.

Oh, the ego of the English
Who have devoted to themselves
1/26th of all they know.

My body once was black
with ash and sadness

And I plead
I beg
and now I confine you
To a tattoo.

Shedding slowly off my sin.

Life handed me two boards of wood and a bucket of nails and now I can't tell if I am suppsoed to be Jesus or Huckleberry Finn.

Poet, live melancholically as
A man with one eye and full vision.
Ambition but no depth
Perception.

Poet, live longingly as
A child in the corner.
Watching mother's wrist.

Poet, live remiscingly as
A bird crossing the street
Via sidewalk as a ghost.

Poet, live unconsciously as
A murderer, staring down at
A floorboard. Not blood but—ink
On your hands.

Wordless,
She says
she loves me.

Worldless,
she does
not
breathe.

Those of wisdom measure it and not wit
And hopefully you've got enough
wisdom to measure
my wit?

He asked me when
I started writing so I
turned to him and
frowned. "Have you
forgotten my
birthday already?"

I closed my eyes as my father dipped me in liquid gold
So then when I saw you I—

fell.

'Cause my skin writes just a little more raw than
rough fingertips.

They take a dip into desire
They take a dip into something
They never even knew existed.

Plane hangover.
From my window I can see the
Tequila sunrise.

I, right again.
Wrong.
I, write again.

I write about the world.
The world does not write about me.
The world does not write at all.

*The world spills ink.
We form it into letters

I look for inspiration in the people.
I find a hoard of ink, no paper.

I look for inspiration in the carpet.
I find an entire religion.

I flew through one.

Clouds hang in suspension in the sky.
Special effects may or may not be used.

My birthstone shudders as I
Hit the sky's floor.

I drink away my problems
I drink away my happiness
I drink away my wallet

When I am writing I am thinking of you
When I am thinking of you I am thinking of you
When I am breathing I am

Always.

Roller coaster plane ride
Nose dives into the ocean in my mind and all that's still on it is
You.

The clouds part like seas for Moses upon our inevitable arrival once again. I can see angels being hung by twine. The sky ran away from his kingdom to vacation upon the Earth. The soil soul rubs into his toes.

You are not an earthly being trapped in the clouds. You're heavenly gold bound to earth.

You're an opposite. A composite.

I read over St Peter and cry.

40 minutes until I board the plane.
12960 until I see you again.

Tropic trips are quaint but..
I would rather be in your skin.

There is Braille above the warning on an electrical socket.
How do blind people know where the outlet is.

A plane flies off through the window.
257 people go to Heaven as
A plane flies off through the window.

People walk by in the airport.

People walk.
I wait.

People wait.
I walk.

You       make    me         feel    like      this    is    more    than       a          "more than,"          a    "less than,"          an    "equal to."
                  More       than       infinity,    a    vector,    a    scalar.    A       page-fifty-seven-numbers-one-three-and-twenty-two.        More ­   than    "x"        approaching      it's       limit.               More       than      a   dopamine,       seratonin,       oxycotin         cocktail.


      I'm   a      little                   drunk    and                I       love       you.
               You're          worrying             and                               I       love       you.
   You're          overthinking       the          unthinkable    and       rationalizing    the    irrational    and          I          lov­e       you.
      You're    crying          into    my                ex­istence    and                   I       love          you
      You're    spinning    in          circles    on    the ­   second          time    we          hung    out          and  ­ * holy    mother          *******             God-playing-hide-and-seek,                         I             love          you.*

      You    make    me          feel    lik­e    Moses    parting                seas    and    leading    al­l    of    my    dreams    across    to    a    Holy             ­   Ground.
         Like    a             supernova    explosion             and    you're             my    black          hole.
Pulling
       me
                           in.

Pillow       talk    of       original    sin.

         You       remind          me          of       documentaries       :    curl       up    on          the    couch          and       spend    the       day             away     in       blankets             and          still                not       have               wasted    a           ****        minute.

                        I                   ­      love             you       more    than       words    can       know,    and       when    I       told    you    that,       you    held    me    tighter.
My    head       feels    heavier       but    my       heart    a       lot    lighter.

I       feel         lucky          to      know          you,       let       alone       love    and       be          loved    by       you.       I      don't      believe         in      miracles   but      I      believe      you      are            a         blessing.

               I    hopped       to    the       edge    of       my    bed    and    found    the       Atlantic    Ocean       staring          me       down
You    haven't       even    gone,    yet          I    still       find    myself    counting       down       the    days    until       you    return.

The sun doesn't shine in December
The sea doesn't sway in fall.
May nor June didn't open their eyes and August never loved me at all.

I have been wishing
for smiles
in sleep.

For sleep in smiles.

Sanctimonious.
Sacreligious.

are drugs lips? wit. harem. ember in glore

a red rug slips with a remembering lore.

Your existence is drowning—
Possessing your breathe in depth
Spanning a minute into a lifelong
And only when your lungs collapse do you
Fly and break the surface into another new world
Another new ocean in which you will hide:
Close your eyes and refuse to inhale the tide.

Poet, so silly, doesn't realize
or recognize
I have put him to idolize.

There's a reason that bird was yellow.

Caged inside a coal mine.
Told to do his job and die for society.
Outrageous.


Merit, melancholy. Contagious.

We were wrestling in your bed
And I grabbed your leg—
Seven others wrapped around me.

My uncle killed himself and the only kind of suicide note he left was a grocery list.

There's a world that sits
in the tip
of
your cigarette.


There's a city in
that spark.

******* on sale at the supermarket
Boxed in warning
But still
You got out your credit card

(Twice)