we crossed paths like spiders and our webs intertwined, housing an extraordinary amount of winged creatures. it was beautifully temporary. i let out a line and dropped away.

i was stretched out like a garden.
you were pulling the weeds.

the table is set
with even, straight lines
measured out spaces
the dullest knives

then it was evening,
but now it is night,
sink dripping,
the occasional headlight
moving through the windowpane

i dreamt about you last night
(& i fell out of bed twice)

...
in the same way that dirt beneath your fingernails
proves that you're alive

every winter's ending seems impossible,
but it's merely just unwritten
& i'm hoping those days were the final paragraphs,
waiting for the closure of punctuation
in the form of an open window

lovely with a capital L

north carolina's state motto is this : "to be, rather than to seem."

so work out your faith with fear & trembling.

we talk about living as if it were dying instead. we sharpen our swords upon our teeth, cutting off our tongues & losing all power of speech. and with our silent thoughts we finally speak life.

i was a bird when you found me & a bird when you left
no one told me the direction to fly
& i have been across the country
& my wings are tired & weak & often i only want to find somewhere warm & dry to sleep
as if i were only a piece of your scenery
one you do not take in as you are on your way to work
but one you would miss if i disappeared
stopped singing
escaped for the season
but this winter i am planning on sticking around
because for once i have built a home

"But to want everything is in fact to want nothing. One has to specify, otherwise choices are of no significance: they are not choices." -Thomas Merton

you were always a loose cannon,
but i think that this time you were using me as ammunition.

"i do not think i would miss you if you were to disappear," said the ship to her anchor.

it was a well constructed cocoon, but i got tired of sleeping.

the sky broke.

you drew an X across my throat.

another tickmark on your prison wall.

we were swallowing dandelions with hopes of growing roots.

you were just a skeleton
i stretched the skin over your body
but the bones & tendons pushed through such a thin layer
& i spent the rest of the night sewing you back together

i watched as the fireflies celebrated the rain
trying to decode the signals & cause them to spell your name
(not recognising the letters forming my own)

i was a little girl in a summer dress walking along the pier toward some sort of end, be it water or air. & someone was holding my hand & pointing out the dove that circled above us.

but i don't collect people.

i will not be anchored by fear.

i dreamed i made myself a halo out of cardboard
i wrote you a letter on an old typewriter
i asked you not to save me this time

i can never get the order down.
12345
12345

dead or alive.

it all centers around communication.

i have been rescued far too many times to allow worry to be draped around my neck any longer. it would weigh me down, it would push my eyes to the floor. i pull it away & the clouds are moving in fast foward.

you were once a secret but now you're just a name.

is it better to build a world or to enter one ?

the hospital is for the sick.

it's a dead language.

[grace the snow is here] a reminder of the cost of beautiful things...

when you tried to trample me underfoot you only managed to scratch my eyes & the scabs grew over them like giant knives pointing outwards until i could not stand next to anyone i could not face anyone or i would stab them deeply with my own wounds with my own healing it would not hurry itself along one must be still & wait & the scabs will leave on their own accord they do every time havent we learned this yet havent we learned ? oh sweet love what has become of you ?

i used to be something
then you drew lines across me
& i separated into sections
i tied myself together with string
but i could walk no longer
only drag my body over the pavement
or let myself be carried

there is nothing new under the sun.

what of the words of the LORD that come out in a drunken manner ?

risk is walking by my side - our hands brush, and my whole body shivers.

"drink a vial of sadness for excruciating devotion & maddening notion."

it was like a chain of paper dolls who held hands & kept an identical shape
safety in numbers safety in numbers

it's a million to one & the millions are turning themselves on & off so if you time it just right, watch your rhythm & your step, perhaps you can sneak in for a bit of understanding. i cant take this alone but i cant take you with me so i'll watch the birds hop from wire to wire & pretend they will relay messages from a far off land of knowledge & of hope. i wonder what stillness is to motion is to progress is to providence.

but is the risk in waiting, or is it in acting ?

i am not invincible.

it's only now that i realise that i am leaving something behind that i am able to take something with me. it's only now that i am ready.

parallel lines parallel lines

the giraffe's eyes were so big,
& the elephant's eyelashes so long
the children watched the penguins
& i was leaving
& i was staying
each time it's supposed to be goodbye
yet whoever they are
& whoever i am
stretch our hands into next week
& pull out a few more hours
but soon they will all be pulled
stretched taut like taffy
& my hands will be full
& my hands will be empty
& i really will be gone
i really will be gone.

of all the bad ideas in the world...this is one of them.

it climbs & tightens my throat until i can no longer breathe anything but what it wants me to breathe,
(& i would rather my face simply turn blue.)

oh epinene, your beautiful heart.