to breathe
in your aura
the smell of your hair
the rough of your chest
peek a boo huff in your voice
the way you look down
to catch my breasts
in your hungry mouth
to breathe a past
and let it go
floating like ashes
when we were lovers
and we were kings
but time is not a lady
who waits for those who fear
of losing life
to breathe a future
where i am lost
without my lover
without my king
did you go away from me
to make me kneel
and see me bend
in the blackness of
night’s bitter drink
hey it rains
at 2 a.m.
and for some
reason i think
about you love
what are you
you are what
i feel you
to be in that dark corner
hiding behind dust bunnies
from when he last opened the door
and left me
night drive slow speed
body tired windows bleed
city light a million times
soul sucker dynamite
blare the sin out from below
steel cold brick you sunk me
my fingers crooked now
with the countdown of this town
but don’t underestimate
the heart mine least of all
look me in the silence of that eye
i dare you to deny
that after you’ve torn
us both down
spit on our ancient right
that a tree of force will not emerge
from where my human blood’s been shed
from where my love everlasting powerful
and pure will for all of time
triumph over you
and our perversions
when i was a teen girl
i had a teen boy lover
he was broken like James Dean
and like Brando a real bad ass mutherfucker
he kissed with a platinum tongue
as we walked along the Venice sand
he’d get into fights
all bloody and bruised
but we still caught the moonlight
sucking on the booze
we’d fuck until we couldn’t walk
not because of sex or anything
but because of all the glue we huffed
those were wild times
in the eyes of other people
to a punk skater kid
of broken inner spirit
the life style was his fort
me i was just a wanna be
looking for a Trojan Horse
to leave this solar system far behind
by sixteen i’d been dead so many times
and had gotten taken advantage of by force
all because of it
Blaine with the dirty blonde mohawk
my only refuge that boy was
we swore our love
with Sharpie marker anarchy tattoos
and shared pizza crusts
from the dumpsters down on Zephyr
at night we’d find some Gypsy camp
and howl unto the face of angels
howling at the moon just seemed so trite
but when we’d look in each other’s eyes
there were no stars in them
like with the Montagues’ and Capulets’
just an existential escape past our sullied souls
knowing that we had no plan
just living for the day
no flowers in my hair
no money for the Goddamned fare
from desperation blvd. to hole ave.
just me and Blaine alone together
simultaneous fear and madness punching in the air
we lived like Cohen and the Beats
the Velvets and Andy and Billy Name
we talked about fascism and Ollie and the gang
La Revolucion y El Che
we talked about other times
his aunt Myrtle’s minced meat pie
Constantinople and even Hemingway
he read about the Bolsheviks
while i adored Bukowski
he slept in the LA Central Library
on my bony dirty lap
one of the most beautiful
and sacred memories of my life
was my chipped fingernail polish
fingers picking out two tiny
purple flower petals
from his gentle baby hair crown
i love the way you look at me
almond blue eyes laden with innocent sin
i love the way you steal a kiss from me
and sometimes hold me down
by my cat-like wrists
and tell me how you’ll take me
i love the texture of your ear
on my tongue rugged and sun burnt
crisped by the sea salt and the sand
i love to hear the song
of your primitive throat when you cum
i love how you scold me when i’ve had
one too many of the L36s
and i respect you
as a man who tells it how it is
with compassion while you grieve
for the slow motion death of my free spirit
i pluck a lullaby from notes that the wind makes
and i sing in la-la-la’s just for you
i pretend that the fellas can hear me too
as the warm sun makes me take off your old army shirt
hold on i got a text
but before i scroll on screens i loved your stories
of bayonets and the history channel’s gruesome blitzkriegs
and when you’d sit in the garage
crying hysterically like a heart broken woman
i would weep too by the old fig tree in the afternoons
why do we fight when we fight each other
and when we fight ourselves will the world be better off
From my bleeding heart
Rain the cries of a bottomless love
In ardor and pain and sweetness from the guava fruits
Destined to wither and die on your ground
Angel of cruel deliciousness
Knocking on the broken door of my memory
As I agonize in the thought of your becoming eyes
Hell does circle me every day and brighter at night
Lady of the circulating endless ecstasy
Only you can allow me to die in peace
estimada novia de colores
en las garras de la pasión
mírame en los ojos
un color come el mío
te juro no los vas a ver
eres el suspiro de la vida
que nace y muere como la Coatlicue
quiero ser libre en tu prisión
y nunca escapar dulce peregrina señora del altar
de las cosas más sagradas en su naturaleza perversa
píntame con tu arco iris
columnas de nuestros padres
las madres ya no van
y siguen su camino
quiero que hagamos amor
en Saturno
y con uno de sus anillos
hacerte mi esposa
the nutty wafts of kelp breeze
wrap around my body
looking at the waves they crash
the little crabs shake
their tiny pinchers at them
they all just laugh
their foamy locks behind them
my fingers remind me
that i’m digging in the sand
i smile on my left side
two young lilac gulls screech
over some meaty mussels
my attention zooms in at the ferris wheel
closing my eyes
subtle waves of nauseous panic come
but you’re gone
your arms not there to hold me
your lips can not whisper
your hungry desires in my ear
your wandering finger tips caressing
the nipples on my breasts
as i whispered i want you
we both laughed
the piercings in your lips
they caught my hair
we clasped tattooed hands
the deepness in your voice
only for me
subtle wind moans
only to be cut by youthful laughter
holding my knees
those demons prick at me
your notes didn’t answer my questions
the cattails sway slow
resin sun settles down deep
she has blazed all day
moon in silver comes
knocking at my back window
dig his Elvis suit
then E Piaf croons
tears brim in my tired eyes
never did i miss
you so much as i
do now even with all of
our misunderstood
way of saying words
to drive each other away
fearing that our hearts
would be ripped apart
by anemic attempts to
share a normal life
you the older one
did not necessarily
know best i was young
i did not know that
fucking my way through real love
in time would never
heal our broken parts
still not all was a failure
truth and wine reveal
i love it when youre mad at me
and i try to lick your salty nipple
as you mutter in uncertainty
in between gulps of rye
i love it when we play house
you smack my ass
unzip your pants
and demand me to please
i love it when you ask of me
about politics and i say
i dont know i cant relate
but ive got to go and serve
the broken today
i love it when you yell at me
i shoot to the moon smiling
nodding on the fourth
like when Idris met Azrael
it breaks my heart
to come home
while youre lying on the floor
Gulliver tied down by
tiny airport bottles
i hate it when
i make you cry
after my lips no longer blue
call out your name
right before vomiting
my weakness you on your back
cock hard me on top
losing myself without regard
but right before
i come bouncing back to you
turning my tide
your palms on my thighs
laughing as we die
cover my eyes on your way out
it hurts me when i know
that i will be leaving
in a few hours to get away
from you
ill really miss
that ethereal tiny kiss
gifted from you to me
upon my forehead
when you asked to marry me
there really is no comfort
knowing that i love you
two grotesquely beautiful
liars contending
upon the mirrors of our eyes
words less spoken 