vulnerability

what is the most effective way to sneak onto your skin,
becoming tiny enough to steal your love if i have to?
how do i do this?
perhaps one night as i light a candle
the wax will burn from the outside in,
leaving nothing but the gumdrop flame
which in the next breath i pluck from the air like
a ripened grape
and pop into my mouth
swallowing,
i disappear to the naked eye
as it lights my organs like
the watchtowers of The Great Wall
beginning at the belly and spreading outward
beyond and above the space of the fontanelle
there will be heat and clarity



the question will change:
not how tiny but how expansive can i be?
quantum hopping on the lilly pads
of molecules between us
the question of not how tiny but how expansive
how strong these thoughts of you have to be
to make you feel me
like i feel you
in the middle of my night
deeply
this process is frightening
the angler fish dangling its light in the depths
where it seemed impossible for this flame to even shine

fkjf

thisisasentencewithoutanyspaces

and it was difficult to type but i'm okay

i lived through it

just as i will live through having just enough .

if i could move through each piece of now, i would.

i will.

i have a box in my closet marked 'the past'

and it holds nothing that i want to keep.

i do not have a box marked the future because that would be silly.

fuck that box. who wants their future in a box?

i keep my future on a list that shines out in my room

what screams out from that list screams out so loud that it becomes real.

i'm getting close to giving without wanting

i hope it's not laziness that

i don't wanna claim anything.

i feel lately that i don't have the right to be so posessive.

OH NO

everything im learning

boils down to paying attention

i like doing that

i like it so much that i can go long periods of time

without

talking.

i like doing.

i like paying attention.

i like ice cream

i like long drives

i like learning

i like kissing

i like wearing boots and bathing suits

(but not at the same time)

i remember the feeling of being closely held by another human being and

i liked that. a lot.

i like dancing barefoot

and flailing around so crazily that youd think my parts would fly off my body

i like accomplishing things

i like not knowing because i feel safe in it

i like not needing proof of who i am...that's what makes kissing so good.

disconnect

i feel like i'm taking huge paces towards a very important door...and the strides are made in slow motion, as if my feet are stuck in tar, but i'm okay with this.

i wonder if i can stay in this job for one more year. i feel alone in it.

i am alone in it right now.

more meditation, feeling it out, more doing, more stops.

the meditation is in what i do and what i do feels like it is in slow motion and i wonder if i will ever be intimate with anybody ever again.

this is a slow opening.

i am a slow opening.

tender, pulsing, alive, alone.

I opener

i practice loneliness.

and lately,

emptiness.

But, when i meditate, I feel a vastness replace that space.

something takes over,

knocking out the walls that separate my lungs, heart, and brain,

I am able to claim my name

and have the three

join in union.

if my eyes are windows

this new space is a large kitchen

with canary yellow curtains

letting the sun's warmest beams

dance in patterns

where my bare feet are gonna go.

I no longer brace for the cold.

this is a kitchen void of cutlery,

with the exception of the occasional spoon

I eat with my hands,

gently separating

what would usually be cut with knives

with my fingers.

I form these pieces with cookie cutter precision,

the best star-shaped pb & j sandwiches in all the land.

the three windows

(bend and you will become whole.

so says the tao teh ching.)

you were afraid of waking the neighbors.

you were scared of walking through my living room

so you crawled through my window.

i thought you were joking.

all throughout the night,

while we were not cuddling,

i had the construction people build a twisty slide

for my escape.

it was chilly out when i left.

i hired my dentist to wait at the bottom

for the sole purpose of handing out lollipops.

sucker.

this one has a magic window.

"ah."

through this window you can look out of all of Los Angeles

late at night

and imagine what the nightshift is doing in the buildings

with elevators racing up and down.

"oooh. interesting."

yes. i knew you'd like it.

this couch here is for fake yawns, caressing, and lit cigarettes.

go ahead, you can touch it. feels real, doesn't it?

"mm hmm....oh, and how about the bedroom?"

oh, i was saving that for the end, madame.

the bedroom room has music

that pops out of very tiny speakers

installed in all six of its corners.

when the jukebox of love is on,

it sounds like a very tiny circus

is playing familiar songs far off in the distance...

see?

"i see.

i'll take it."

she had to watch her head.

the latch jutted out from ceiling

when the window was open.

her hair got caught on it

often.

this make out room was meant for people

who were used

to military crawling along the grounds

of mine swept

and wanting hearts.

she knew he was a native to that land,

but

it wasn't until the sun came up

that she noticed all the scalps.