Sunday, September 28, 2014

full of trumpets

being able to lift your chin and smirk for the camera
doesn't make you bullet proof or superhuman 

grow, grow, leech, vine
the ego is still as temporary as skin

even the grandest of it 

there is, though, a subtle body of love
that outlives the lines of your fleshy meat

it is full of secret wishes
as simple as kindness or the rhythm of an encouraging drum

it is full of trumpets 
and emptying breaths
and tears that cascade
down salty cheeks 
into the corners of upturned lips

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

267/365 : ben

i'd like to come back to you year after year
a little more scared each time
a little more
and fine with it
i'd like to come back to you
and press my palm against your palm
feel our muscles touch
and then move slower
in the meeting of our eyes

Saturday, September 13, 2014

draw the line

I'm drawing new lines
like a painter
not sure
exactly where 
the fire will crack 
or bend backwards--
only what needs to be burned
from my pallet 
of "sounds good"