When I could no longer bear avoiding the dream, Soft distance set in.

I bought you a pack of cigarettes then I remembered,

It was my birthday.

Gemini. But I’m not two-faced in nature.

You called me ‘old money’ today. And old money ‘comes with attitude’ you say. But just because I’m transparent doesn’t mean you understand me. In fact, what is there to observe when all you see is though?
Go on: hold me to the point of breaking.

Some bridges like being burnt…

I am a bridge with a desire to be burned so great, it frees me; not just one part of myself can I sacrifice, for then all of me you would never know.

They don’t have me down as a bad person yet;
however, it could happen at any time. Neither my existence nor my vacuity betrays my true intent.

You like boys who use big words.
Is the very meat of our affair.
We are soil organisms. We are that low.

You’re an incredible lover, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything in the world. But you’re a selfish girl and I honestly can’t see myself being with someone like you forever.

But that’s okay because the future’s almost over and these are the last few thoughts I will ever have. You’re the most beautiful monkey my back has ever seen. Grip tighter; stay close and I will give you a ride home.

The shifting of gears, the merging of lanes. Denver is about 75 miles.
But of an essential truth of mine:
No matter how far or fast I drive,
I’ll never be more alive
Than I am with you sitting shotgun.

Where went my couth?
Honey-glazed by hungrrr.
Hungrrr sharp and
sharp edged honed over whet of longing;
a weapon wrought by appetite.
Apnea, release, Asphyxia, relief.
There is no substitute for this sort of high.

The grand death is broadcast everywhere.
We salute it as it passes. A dead deer on the side of the road will kill your spirit but you’ll leave with a smile anyway.

You wanna take a picture but its too dark. Figure the light for the best spot.
Flash and click goes the your camera, good thing we both keep all our ugliness on the inside.

I’m starting to feel my age
but not when we’re together.

We get hybrid.
We listen and laugh, and simper and sob.

There’s this girl. And I’m this boy:

“Describe yourself in two words, Vince…”

I expected you to finish my name, but you do not. ‘Vince…’ I hate Vince. Vince just doesn’t fit and one syllable simply doesn’t slide.

” *Pavonine and proud” I say. It’s all that makes sense to me anymore.

All my life I’ve been grasping haphazardly for a two words to describe myself that have been fitting enough to clothe myself with or even just simply stand unadorned…

-and all makes sense to me now-

 

 
*pav·o·nine
adj.
1. Of or resembling a peacock.
2. Resembling a peacock’s tail in color, design, or iridescence.
[Latin pvnnus, from pv, peacock.]

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s