it isn't like that

even if it's just to be afraid, let me have it.
even if it's just for your hands on my legs, for something to see, for the slowed down music moving of the outside world. Is nothing sacred? right here, it is, they did it just like that, you know - like a script.  in the curves of the coffee cup you forgot how to love me, the caffeine got to your head maybe, your heart was just the leftover black grounds on the bottom, like the ceramic had freckles. i thought i told you, i thought you knew how. see i used to be so careless with my secrets until they taught me not to, until they showed me how to bend but not break, magic tricks up the sleeve --a rubber band trip, eyes with sugar maple, a sideways curve,     where are we.
we shouldn't be here. but we are and we got here on our feet  and now we're in a car  and right now we're in a snowbank  and it has deemed itself our sky, the walls and the ceiling  and you don't know who i am but i can see right through you, unfortunately, unfortunately for me, like angels.  like angels on acid. the beads on your neck were like pebbles in moving creeks, my hands were the water and what could you have been? something to climb, i think, palm to palm, something rough and rocky and i could tell that the air and things in your lungs were tossing and turning  but i closed my eyes. i close my eyes.  

i just want our skin to be wet and your eyes to be shining. 

they never feel like good ideas, they never are, not with love, not ever. words though, those are a good idea, usually, yes, when they want me. they are kept in a jar, it is a jar full of jam, inside the ribcage maybe, we open it up when no one is around, when everyone is around, with our hands we do it, little hands in our heads like prayers that we catch like sound. when i lie on the ground outside i always put them up in the air and i don't know why , maybe i am waiting for something, maybe something is waiting for me.  the words are looking for a way out , any way out, small pistols in my dreams. do you ever stop to think that "soul mate"  switched around a bit says mating souls? i do. i can picture it too, like slow dancing ghosts, it's what i mean when i say go, it's what i mean when i say love me like your hearts stopped. 

2 comments:

Ben Brooks said...

favourite new wave vomit so far
okay
sunshine

kerrylily said...

thank you so, so much