Saturday, June 13, 2009

from our last (most recent? final?) fight

we don't work she said
i want to raise kids
i want to have a career
we can't do that shit together she said
we don't work

Friday, June 5, 2009

never one foot on the ground

a part of me has spoken and is silent
a part of me hears everything you said
a part of me is living on an island
a part of me sees no way out: a head
a part of me is deafened by emotion
a part of me can't hear the other part
a part of me is drowning in mid-ocean
a part of me will not give up: a heart
apart i can only be poked by your digital fingers
apart i'm restricted to reading your laughter and smiles
apart from your taste and your waist and the way that the way that you look out at new york lingers
apart three thousand would have been too many miles
apart from you i know i am diminished
apart – no sure way forward – but not finished?