sex with the likes of her

writhing like a snake nest

creamy okra

two thistle thighs

rub on everything

this is now mine.

burrowing.

     burrowing.

god, this is how the world ends

Did you know God lives in your neck

and everyone who kissed it was ordained

But there are no spiritual leaders right now

cause breaking your heart is excommunication

So I keep living by doing nothing, ever,

cause I'm no better than all those before

Now, we have no one to lead the people

and no one giving you love. Is this how it ends?

sorry for existing and wanting and not being able and not good enough and probably never will be but sometimes i pretend

futuristic voyeuristic

Social media is friendly-fire psy ops

      -is this toward me,

       or any target audience,

       or titillated chance?

I'm in your life now

peripheral vision, 

      strained eyes,

churned out like butter

pour your gristle and fat into me.

Unbalanced meal

spaghetti-crawl off the plate

It's touching! It's touching!

Peas and carrots touching

     -roll out the red carpet,

      get out the guest soap,

      open up the good stuff!

I'm peering in like a pie

          window cooling.

Am I stalker or vampire

you invited in?

Who is to blame?

    I, who sees, or

You, who shows.

sonnet #4

in sun tea summer when i grow tanner

i like it when we babysit bunnies

line up for their recess, learn their grammar

among the clover, i make them cookies.

i invite anyone in our small home

we built it up like a lemonade stand

but you would rather we stick it alone

together, in rooms with doors never slammed.

selfishly giving myself away, free

for any passerby willing to pause

when you are where i can hang all my keys

you are dogwood, loving me just because.

forgive me how i always devastate;

it's us, our life, to which i dedicate.

oh the things you could do (but won't, it's for the best)

taste the Cherry Coca-Cola Lipsmackers off my lips,

move to the mountains with me and holler down,

eat fresh cookies in bed cause chocolate chips feel safe,

rest in a dark room, the only light, sound, Stop Making Sense

-action!

please ask me about my beliefs and life, but you don't care,

or contemplate who you'll love this week as it won't be me,

or wipe me off with fist, like milk around a child's mouth

or you could suggest all the things i could do, but won't.

it's ok

it's all for the best

it's all milk and cookies

undressed, obsessed, suppressed

is my favorite place to be.

how the abuse colors outside the lines of time

 the difference between

      arm over or

    arm under blanket

  too cool then too hot

like being awake

        in bed

mom slamming pots

mom slamming pans

-that's just how it sounds

        to me

            right now
from the other room

without walls

    i'd see it is you 

        you making coffee

        you whistling out the window

        at our bird and bunny friends

        at our yellow zucchini blossoms
spring has sprung in sideways snow.

my mother is dead;

    i am safe in a king bed.

[we bought.]

[you said i could sleep in.] 

nothing has changed

    please tell my Clydesdale heart
which will give out
    or burst out 
        and kill me
that's the difference between

   my weak little child past or

       my big strong adult present

    yet it still sounds the same

from the other room.