brimful

you do not write much
you do not write too often
but when you do
those two
words
that you write
i gather them

i hold them
those two words
with the exact same care
that i
gather air
i hold them
like i would 
collect a stream of fresh water

in the hollow base of my palm

i take
your two words
and fill balloons with them
words, words like helium
filled in balloons
of pastel shades
balloons made out of satin
tied down
with silk threads
to a mahogany writing table

those two words
that you write
around which
every other thing
stays 
yet
fades
becomes
conspicuous
by its absence
stands out
like people around us
would
in the plains of
invisibility

those two words
you write
are like you
like the morning dew
like grains of sand
like scent of an ocean
like a scarf
made out of
the summer sky
wrapped around
an august neck

those two words
you write
are like you
like
crystal cubes of
saccharine
melting away

like
you
who i gather 
in little
smooth
shape shifting
coffee cups

you
who
do not write much
you
who
do not write too often

but when you do...

a tree. the wilderness and an infinite infinity.

when we get tired

wondering about

wandering in

this infinite space

i will find us a tree

a tree by the lake

willingly offering

some shade

we'll stand underneath it

for a bit

appreciating

smiling

grinning

like two content fools

we'll stand for a bit

and let the leaves fall

leaves that gave 

into the gentle

tempting caresses of

the breeze

a breeze with the heart of a wind

a wind with the legs of a windstorm

causing flutters

and sensations

in us

ground up

starting from the sole

of our feet

weakening our knees

tracing the tremble

on our thighs

sucked in

sucked in by our hungry

abdominal cavities

stoking the fire in our

quicksilver bellies

warming our breaths

clasping our chests

measuring our gasps

disrobing our sights

untying us

from our forbidden selves

over us

all over us

like confetti

yes

we'll stand

for a bit

underneath that tree

and then

we shall

sit

rest

for a bit

and then

when

we feel like it again

we'll

start
wondering about

we'll start
wandering in

the wilderness

of this

infinite space

tristan

a very gradual fade

veins carrying coal

to your heart

arteries carrying saline

from mine

standing at the edge of a cloud

no wings to fly

no will to try

we've bled out

oceans through our eyes

we've answered every question

with a why

why

my chest

an open sky

on a summer night

the sweat beads

on my upper lip

the fissures

in your eyes

one reflecting light

the other letting it pass through

the rainbow between

the cusp of our palms

an upside down slide

colors dripping away

look,

how our rainbow has

turned white

words turning

in to floating burned flakes of

paper

in our mouths

we look at each other

two people

two people

who look like

sand clocks

quietly

slipping away

trying to fill up

the craters

on the face

of the moon

not any time soon

not any time soon

constellations

a thing or two about stopgap arrangements and killing time.

at sea and drowing

dipped in acid
to wash away
the satin stains
of the gentle

this is no world
for the gentle
or the kind
the forgiving
or the loving

especially the loving

lover
oh lover
leave this world
there isn't enough room
for you

here

or

anywhere

your bitter heart
and its broken shards
are dousing this world
in acrid rain

the stench

of your moth eaten
love-letters
and dried petals
and ticket stubs
and lipstick cups
and carefully wrapped
gift wrapping papers

is sucking up

the oxygen around the rest of us
eating away at the ozone
poking holes
leaving us with burnt
screaming
body and souls

lover
oh lover
leave this world
your weight is too much for us
to bear
you bare
you wear
your heart on your sleeves
and your naked sighs
and heaves
and gasps
setting up traps
trying to catch
our attention
when we have none
to spare

not for you

not now

not 

ever

oh lover



leave this world
this isn't a place for you