i'd sink through these walls
to let yesterday flood every inch of the dreams i singed;
the ones that wind through my body with this feeling
of being lost between myself emotionless
and trancendent in the illumintated linguistics
that spill from our lips. we'll wander jealous roads
awkwardly paved from the trailhead to the turnpike
and gaze hoplessly into something spiritual,
something to manifest and hold on to.
this spring stumbled in drunk from the cold
and melted any signs of detatchment that
left their footprints. our fingers and feet are smearing
themselves slowly, fusing into the floor on this
canvas pre-dawn with the ping-pong effect tension
making eye contact with desire across the room,
tearing through a smokescreen of dead inhibition.
i lost it all in a haze that draped heavily over my shoulders and eyes
like wet grey mesh carrying a strawberry subtlety
and a southern accent. it is when i hear your voice
that proximity loses touch, and the id and the ego give way
beneath my feet, wiring my jaw and mind shut.
i'll be everything in a moment
and nothing in a instant if you hear me speak
to a bottle of honesty, but i'll trap my echo inside
and break it on the sidewalk. and you,
you'll watch it scatter like the ashes of a cigarette out a car window
never hearing it ring but always subconsciously craving the sound.
it resonates like beauty in turmoil
tieing itself in knots of immediacy; tangled hair in perfectly
sloppy segments. but if i told you what it looked like
you'd swallow it and die. i'll show you what tomorrow is
in a new light where yesterday dripped and stained the backs
of my eyelids, and today seems lost to sound and smoke.
all i can smell are the stale peach leaves of a dry teabag
diffusing itself into the last of the february air.
it's the sound of your eyes crying when laughter drops my jaw
on the end of a wave meeting my eardrum at my brain,
each tear studying vigorously the way the light glints
seductively off my teeth, and the color of my lips as they
split and curl upward to bear that light.
i always leave having had enough but still wanting more
and absolutely nothing at all at the same time
in a different place. you've followed and picked it
all apart attatching symbols to meanings that
are usually consistent, but no longer carry that trait.
in your confusion, conclude me
to be an enigma floating somewhere on a plane
of stillness in motion, suffering from fickle desire
and immediacy in distance. i'll trip on the stings
dangling from my fingers, and you'll be lost completely
but tangled in the threads of me in your head where
your heart connects to it. it's longing, and you'll feel it
come on strong, prickling your veins at night
when you're alone, but i'll be here same as always,
bundled up tightly in the sunshine of this beautiful
facade that i wear to protect my skin.

all i want is to have my footprints filled
and my ego to marry avarice, but remian humble.
i want a southern eye, and to know what texas tastes like,
and to shrink the length of nebraska so you wouldn't be so far.
i want you near when you're near, and near when you're removed
but to split myself into multitudes exuding desire
and manipulating time and consequence.
i want you to understand, and myself to be free of the necessity
of understanding, untied, and only partially exposed.
i'll keep the world at the tips of my fingers
and only bind myself when loyalty is near.
i'll embrace my flaws in the privacy of self love,
and you'll always see me beautiful and pre-pardoned
from what you'll never know.
quiero ser lo que es perdido, pero es siempre presente.