by my loose cuticles,
catching on my skin-nail connection.
the northern section of the pillowcase
covered in loose fabric and threads,
Sacrifice my self-sabotage
to dwell in your harmony's grace.
Deafly walking past your shadow,
end as we rise in each other.
You're reality interrupting my dreams,
We play Monopoly until one of us gets sick.
Drying clothes on chairs because her
shirts shrink in the machine.
Sometimes I look at her with my beard
gnawing at my face, she wonders
Not always blood and gore,
not caused by steel or gun,
yet they burn and singe,
huge miserable holes in mind,
It's been wrong this whole time,
the 16-dream has been wrecked,
a vase tumbling to the ground and shattering.
An unfair thigh diameter
Black cat stalking in shadows,
entering into sun light
at a deliberate pace.
Fresh green spring weeds
The first rain of the season,
poets go crazy all over,
imagining non existing love,
Laughter, the season of living.
Aside from a smile,
the sound infects nerves
like solitary care.
And the rhythm fills the room
He asked me,
"What would you have done
If the cells of your body
Stopped receiving the rays of the sun?"