I live with another , i stole from her lover

it's hard for me to sit still, i need to go for a drive. I can't shake this, whatever this thing is lately. me knowing or me not knowing. silently being silent.

if i can get settled, I'd like to read later. I'd like to read to her. I checked out four new books from the library. It's still early and these empty roads could be a sign of better days. I like driving like this way: a pad and pen on the passengers seat. a book of zen quotes, a knife, pepper spray and a map to disneyworld under my seat.

love. i used the word love in a letter last evening. I don't want to write or receive any letter that doesn't have the word love written somewhere in it. preferably not just at the end.

love,
me

high wire hypotenuse

love of the heart
over lust of the
flesh


i woke up and felt brand new.
when it was that I knew i finally grew up. when i knew i healed.
it was when
i was happy for her. honestly
and truly.
beaming. glowing. safely. calmly. sighing.
fucking happy.
it's when
I knew
I must have also
loved her.

and on Sunday she wore her summer dress

Scheherazade was so wrong; she had it all backwards. For 1001 nights, she told her king new stories to keep him interested and spare her life. But men don't want to hear stories-- they want to tell them. They want to talk; they want to hold the floor. Males want the world to listen to whatever it is they have to say. That was the single thing she learned from her dismal period of Internet dating--most men really only want to talk to someone who listens. Some want to download while others want your sympathy. Some want admiration but not as many as she had originally imagined. More often than not men just want to tell you what they're thinking or how they see the world. They prefer an appreciative audience but willingly settle for an attentive one. She realized after meeting so many men in a short period of time that the best way to start things going on a date was to give the guys a little verbal push and off they'd go--talking about themselves, their world, their take on things.

- Jonathan Carroll
I like the nights of stars. her summer dress thin and breezy hiked to her waist. Her lips on my neck as she sits close. i tell her about the salty sting of sea water and other stories. I pretend we are on a sail-boat sailing to anywhere. Anywhere but here. anywhere as long as she is with me.
we are really in bed and tomorrow there is work. but I tell her this and this and that. until she closes her eyes. she sleeps now, but I still talk only in whispers. listen. this our happily ever after. As close as it gets. real or pretend. stars and moon and shiny rings.


audrey kawasaki

that crack in the mirror, the note-book you stole and pillow you left behind

I got afraid of
falling
I got afraid
of
sleeping
I got afraid
of alone

fireworks
and pitbull dogs
don't scare me
love don't scare me
saying it does

drinking
didnt solve for X
C=
numbers and letters
unknown

It's just a name
It's just a soundtrack
It's just
me
slipping
away


There was this time when we were talking about how she would befriend all my heroes. All these people I had admired. Artists, muscians, directors. I thought she might enjoy, what I liked.
So I showed, her, I made her listen. It wasn't to make her remember me. It wasn't planned.
I'd rather we stuck around. I'd rather it be round after round. Rocket ships and battle ships.

Then I would see these artists and such on her myspace list. Comments. Something about being addicted to talent, or attracted or whatever. That's what she said.
I never watched his movies again, I didn't look at the other guys art the same way. Here I was writing a blog that nobody's reads. Just your angels stalking me, how bad am I for you?
How bad could it be. Really. The pieces fit. Come rest your head on my stomach. Come hear the pounding in my chest. Come touch me. I am still warm.

Funny, I can say these things now. I used to like fishing. I used to like driving on the country back-roads and watching thunder-storms from the back of my truck. I used to like Johnny Cash. I'm not saying she ruined them. Just things change. Like it or not. I used to like DisneyWorld and doing it until my fever broke. I used to like it on top. I used to like you. I still do. Only different. only like a dream or like words that write themselves and letters that I never send. Only this time is different. I'm not so afraid. I'm not so alone. I'm not so unsure. you said don't make you wait. you said you were tired. which is it? And how I still don't like Wednesdays.