Forget the Words

When he hides what I used to hide
and keeps a watchful eye on me,
because he knows I know,
I wonder if he feels any pain
or if he has forgotten how to bleed.

When you sleep too long, and too deep
(is this just a coma of the soul?)
nothing feels right for days, and him?
I fear the years he will have to wake
up to find are all wrong.

Could I kiss him?  Take that moment
and give him some simple surety
that he is not alone or wrong?
Everyone else knows, and they’ve told him.
But, I will tell him with my mouth.

Forget the words.

I am Sure

You would think that
after this any years I would
know something, have something
to show for all my time spent alone.
There is still a secret
I cannot seem to tease out,
it sits like a pebble in the soul of my soul.
Goddamn all this love,
I am sure it comes from an old lover.
I am sure I still love him.

Their Skins

I have seen these boys
with many skins, they
wear them out, but do
not let them go. Snakes
know to slither away,
these boys stay sad and
hide within their husks.
Even if they are wearing
masks they are not telling
the truth, they’ve learned
to lie even with them on.
These boys with many
skins and disguises I lie
to keep them happy,
I cannot tell them they
are kindred of mine,
this self-preservation
device I have inside
to read the signs and the
symptoms of my kind has
told me everything I need
to know about the bend
of your wrist, the fold of
your legs, the look in
your eyes when I reveal
everything in a way you
have always wanted to.

Something Only Human

Suppressing old sighs, and emotions
that intensity suggests are not all mine.
I once believed in loneliness, but now
with all that time has created within me
I can only see that I am the only company
to keep (and slow emptiness is the cold
creeping doubt that plagues us). Pandora
only some little bit of the last curse
was let out. We few beings, the mud of
the Earth, newly formed to seek love
have you ever seen the comets far
above where we have landed?
I can only hope that this still loneliness
is something only humans feel,
I would not curse the stars or moons
with this creeping death.

A Heaven is For

When you have stared so long
that colors have changed and
your broken heart has become
the foam-crest of the waves, I
shall still find some love in my
heart to bear for you.  Where
not to love is the only great sin,
there I shall repeat the words
I so often whispered in your ears.
Strange emotion will overcome
in the otherworld, I believe, even
our greatest fears of our selves.
I believe that is all a heaven is for.

Before Words

Long before I spoke
(perhaps before words)
and things did not have
consequences
like hospitals
like needing needles
and an army of pharmacists
(and people in scrubs
all the same color)
there were still demons
and the Sun still shown
at odd angles and didn’t
keep away some kinds
of darkness or sadness
or lostness or the hardness
of making yourself a stone.

Rooms of My Chest

I once painted the rooms of my chest
the colour of you, and in them I dreamed.
And, knowing dreams are real I told them
to you in the morning on your bed.

With you so intimately within me,
how could I expect you would be
so easy to remove from these deep
places and deep thoughts?

I have painted over you a thousand
times, but that did not remove you,
it only cemented your memory in.

So, perhaps rooms and walls are
the wrong thing to have.  I should
have an open field, somewhere to
be a hermit, but in the Sun.