don’t know if I can begin to express
the way a body feels
when a body leaves what a body is
to be what a body is
to me.

Did you know I loved you
when our hearts beat
when the sun rose
when the hand you held
was holding yours

at your mother’s house we could hold each other up
past the sun
at the same door I knew to ignore
now my chest is for
your head to rest

there were hours I felt nothing
there were hours I did not know
did you know I could love you
when I was not sure

Close them close them please
I keep unsealing eyes to find a life;
but absent of time I can survive
sealed up in wet animal eyes
no conscious thought- just distortions of what I want
to be thinking and cannot…

I laid out a table for to die upon
Yĕhovah overturned my table
and outdid the totality of death.

Things pass. They d-
falling asleep maybe on green yards gazing
at greener yards, no I’m sure they must, they do
and the tub drains straight to the fountain of youth
ever unstuffed-up, it will keep us scrabbling for
pools accumulating, but pouting toward
rusty drain pipes
of time-ago; their call and their lure

still keeps us scrabbling, believing
youth past is not completely passed
just slipped through some wire gate; for to us
minimal wire gates, well, they are fences
white and picket, knee high and we
we will step right over someday- away
someday away from ideal in
in- into real. This is how thing pass they
stay asleep then Present wakes them up to run
and hop, jump, and skip over Ideal’s fences into
which one we..
whichever one we admit to perceive
the other side to be…

Why did you paint your walls
why tonight could you not stand the beige-
the cream crept in and licked up your sense.
Did you try to get drunk and stare it down
because it owed you the service
of starring back. Did you yell
at the walls did you yell-
because they ought to shut up
and listen for once.

So you paint them, with life they
never knew. Were they
jealous of your mind so you
gave it to
them finally were you
just alive and
just tired a
nd ready tonight to paint
more than
———-all the other nights
———-that we both knew someday we will all
———-need to paint
———-some time. some place. on some wall?

R.I.P. ‎Jonathan Jabari

I want to drown

Don’t freak out
It’s just water.

And it’s just
DeathEveryone does it.. some time or another

I only use words be(so so many words!)
cause words
are all I know
and I don’t even know them
so well you can tell

so imagine how little I know Eve
rything else (?)

is to be lenders of thread
to the tapestry of one another

Love is the story we tell when we’ve run out of ink.