I faked out my philosophy professor

somehow I had forgotten that this was our last day living side by side, and that you’d return to the substance of pensive thoughts and late nights. A couple notes in a song that carried me to a place neither of us really inhabited. You know, as it was.

You don’t know, do you? But I promise, we had good moments together. Your presence, and I.

Still more real than what you’ve been to me recently. I blame myself.

I always blame myself.

I try to blame myself.


she is me

like so many baffling paint-by-numbers; different instructions each – we taste each color but know not the hue that is spoken of and so, the flavor becomes sullied – our best guess an affront to the submerged, swaddled, beating heart

like so many connect the dots, whose meaning is stolen by the dimension of an entire dimension (and the feel – how to hold a human hand without a thousand glistening synapses begging the question(s))

lost. standing. looking on. lost.


your servant, saul pt. 3

I would pit the world as my enemy sooner than –

but the ‘world’; do I not treasure it despite my impassioned words?

if I could make up my mind as to how to deal with this tragedy, that would be a sure thing

that would be the catalyst

that would be the bridge

what a predicament, truly. I find that for all my wealth of words, I often prefer to use the shortest, meanest (at least they are vibrant enough)

‘no, no, no, no, no’

what a tragedy.


on a sticky note

i sacrifice my own narrative, distrustful, kicking dirt across it like an image, obsolete – a bundle of theories and expectations that fade into lines and angles as a warm hand makes contact,

as a face grants me a smile,

as words become heavy in the air I breathe

I do not breathe the image, the fantasy, the query


oh the less I know the better

pink glass bulbs and you are still in clear relief

nothing dents you, nothing scrapes you, you imbibe my thoughts and it gives your cheeks a lustrous pallor

that face, so close to me; those worlds, temporary opened

a thing, unbroken, for how much longer?

(lately all I want to do is embrace you until you fall asleep against my chest)