trying to get a little dopamine—
In somebody’s lap.

Flashbacks.
Shivering.

Hands,
        hands,
              hands.

To be the heart buried in forty minutes;

I commit the stars above as permanent defects,

in my eyes that shimmer in the amber afterglow.

All to wish for is;

someone to match my fingertips as silently as

the waves run to the beach and

the ocean caresses the sands.

Pristine waters along the new morning
Eating away at the shore’s lips
Licking the grains of sand that stray
Into the dark ocean
Crystals of colour floating in the sea
Aligning upon foamy waves
Never unmoving, forever free

were we really ever real
if one day we seize to exist

Once you drew me naked,
And I did not recognize the man,
A stranger in my skin,
I couldn’t trace where I began.

Truth is,
As cliche as my opinion may seem.
I'm stubborn but in a unique way.
I've lost a lot to be particular in my hesitations.
I've been through enough disappointment to know better.
But the truth is,
I'm more afraid of losing me in someone who wouldn't love me for me.

Some say
Inspiration will find you
But it won't find you doing nothing
I disagree
I was doing nothing
Then I wrote this.

First, are you our sort of a person?
Do you wear
A glass eye, false teeth or a crutch,
A brace or a hook,
Rubber ******* or a rubber crotch,

Stitches to show something's missing? No, no? Then
How can we give you a thing?
Stop crying.
Open your hand.
Empty? Empty. Here is a hand

To fill it and willing
To bring teacups and roll away headaches
And do whatever you tell it.
Will you marry it?
It is guaranteed

To thumb shut your eyes at the end
And dissolve of sorrow.
We make new stock from the salt.
I notice you are stark naked.
How about this suit----

Black and stiff, but not a bad fit.
Will you marry it?
It is waterproof, shatterproof, proof
Against fire and bombs through the roof.
Believe me, they'll bury you in it.

Now your head, excuse me, is empty.
I have the ticket for that.
Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.
Well, what do you think of that ?
Naked as paper to start

But in twenty-five years she'll be silver,
In fifty, gold.
A living doll, everywhere you look.
It can sew, it can cook,
It can talk, talk , talk.

It works, there is nothing wrong with it.
You have a hole, it's a poultice.
You have an eye, it's an image.
My boy, it's your last resort.
Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.

Color floods to the spot, dull purple.
The rest of the body is all washed-out,
The color of pearl.

In a pit of a rock
The sea ***** obsessively,
One hollow thw whole sea's pivot.

The size of a fly,
The doom mark
Crawls down the wall.

The heart shuts,
The sea slides back,
The mirrors are sheeted.