#6

i don’t care who gets the ring

who wears it

who has the lamps and the cleaning supplies and

don’t you know there are hearts now everywhere?

like the kind that said hellooooo

and after a long yawn

and that the stuff is no longer here

i don’t care

split it a million ways and could all be moved to the garbage dump

swimming in the Pacific gyre

sea of memories of times when they just sat

or spoke to tell story

and my heart goes up up

up up

rate goes up up

up

increase the value of the living beings i once (still do?) knew

as each inch of carpet is dissected like delicacy

everything has it’s price

but it won’t bring them back

neither will the picture frame

the desk

The vacuum

neither will the claims and tears and arguments of what a human heart is capable of feeling

that she didn’t have a limit on how much she put out

as did he

as did she

as did all of them

and my blood boils when i think of how we devour the unimportance of

what’s left

dilated and honed in pupils my heart beats at rebellious pace

to high pitched scream

in order to be grounded once again

in the midst of this greedy confusion

i hate

talking

about

this stuff

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#5

more confused than angry

more stuffed away than needing to speak

more afraid of meaning than feeling

more resentful than righteous

more betrayed than mistrustful

more disgusted than indulgent

more agitated

more disappointed

more hurt

more angry about the understanding than the experiencing

such a fleeting moment

it lingers longer than is comfortable

then is washed away by song

and sun

and tomorrow

#4

the stopped second hand on the clock

still, flat water

dancing light reflections

feathers from a thousand pillows fall from the sky

the night’s cold warmth opens its mystery

door to the light

inside the place dimly lit as if from candles

from underneath the door a glow against the wood

as if golden light projected a myriad of secrets

illuminating the dark hallway

soft shadows on the steps

a kind of flickering that madeyou look twice

and though the door was not open 

light spilled through a crack where within its hinges 

something jammed 

so that bright light formed a pathway on the floor

warmth carried through from this flooded light

it took a moment to register 

that the door was not a burgundy red blending into brown 

and that the contrast 

from the light

etched into memory 

behind the eyes

back of the throat

visceral feeling that burned it in for future reference 

yes, no need to take notes

or overly focus on every detail

the feeling of mystery 

was enough to capture the imagination 

make it wonder

make it curious

stepping closer into the light

shadow disappates into reality

into detail

precision

and life

the door is not locked 

the door is 

has been

left open

pink skies

pink and blue striped skies today

looking at the light spread warmth across clouds

like waves folding in upon themselves 

beautiful skies like from a dream

bringing the sun’s welcoming rays

air that wraps you into its arms

yes, the most comforting air

that holds you up

together you look to the sky

in awe

resting on a cloud

warmth multiplying into heat

comfort and softness 

like resting on a cloud

like sitting as an angel

as a bird

as a spirit

high above looking down 

resting

falling into buoyancy 

and eyes droop

and sinking down 

while being held up 

wrapped in gentle ease

scent of rain

sweet and heady and full

water filling in space until the surfaces

the indentations and grooves

all the cracks and crags are filled to the brim

scent after rain is gentle

it lingers and moves in a way 

that only it can do

mixed with dirt and wind that has died down

mixed with plants that have absorbed all they could

mixed with grass and dry leaves rehydrated

and yet the best part is the sun that peeks out to warm

on an otherwise cool and blustery day

scent of rain intensified

cooked through and lifts the spirits 

upward in 

gratitude

long shadows by the yellow flowers 

drive down the highway

into light on the horizon

casts a long shadow 

purple at the edges

dust picks up from hills and the scent of the trees in the window

when you drive

never alone

only solitary in thought for a moment

before landscape

beautiful and haunting at the same time

wind is you friend on journeys like this 

wind picks up the pieces and sends them flying

deep summer night

warmth from the ground 

makes you feel like you could let go of everything 

just a little bit more

sometimes bright yellow flowers 

tiny 

on the highway they great you

with their dark green leaves 

spread over exits and entrances 

as if marking places 

where you want to go further

deep into the depths

and long shadows blend into night

the ground sighs as wind soothes

as headlights turn on against the deep midnight blue

stars sing silently as they watch from above