California, knows how to party

Pressed into a tight space like ground espresso beans
I rock back and forth north and south
I watch the smoke linger inside the pit of his mouth
And the comfort just sits there
I pipe leading to the ends of my Pacific ocean
Sliding like in the water park I went to last summer
There is an angel crying out and licking my blood
A night angel awake with the wails of wolverines
Hungry to feed me and suck me and ingest all the pain
The beat is the heart in which follows me
The beat fastens with the glimpses at me sleeping
The music makes me want to get up and take a bite
He just might
Surrender a boastful cure to another meaningless insight
Down this road we can survive through everything once cold
Buy me a right to his flight
Cheer as the night grows into another evening
East into West
Remembering California

Whispers

I hear whispers
they fuel these daily tasks
Music swings my hips and here we go
same story turned old
same old people, Cheers!, white men
white wine, Robert Frost in my mind.
Remembering things he said, might have said...
The talented man died, drowned in my tears
all those happy years
broke the ignition key, there's only songs
to remind me of him - him of me
Whispers in the evening, dreaming
non-stop with all their might
Here comes the night!
The old woman is gone
she stings in all these beeeees, what might have(s)
been wasps, maybe
Zoom away, another day...
this night is again the same old where I play
Pretend
with myself and touch him in the darkness
of my imagination
Sensations
taking away everything I study for
Damnation, friction, vibration... Salvation?
I write my name and he drives away
with unresponsive lips
A kiss! Can I have just a kiss?
Will it solve all we've missed?
These questions I re-revisit
a phone call to hear voices comforting
Undialed
re-replayed to me as distant whispers
Silenced
like mellow guitar fingers
in this forever loneliests
quiet, unfortunate, daily, tasks
brought by his re-re-missed fire
a never once present presence
won't ever come at last

Waiting

Always very black mascara
So calmly I walk each day
Changing the color of my red lipstick
Waiting
Changing the color of my lavender eye shadow,
To match my earrings or my nail polish
The details that make me up in the morning
I do that just in case,
He passes by my street sometime
And my world could change in a colorful whisk
Again remind me
A blend that would take away my heaviness
And make me smile with the thought of his kiss
Make me want to speed forward
Without thinking too much about the destination
These changes would paint me a new purpose
Like I paint, so carefully, my eyelids each morning
And as I admire my pretty colors in the mirror
Its all fallen perfectly into place
Cause hed make me up each day
When I open my eyes after dreaming of him
And wake to his sleeping face
So real a moment
A moment frozen and mine to keep
It all falls into place
No lies, in the mirror of each morning by his side
A beautiful change
My love is always waiting for
Again remind me...
Wheres the moment of truth
My love is always waiting for

Untitled

Comic gingles freak the magic whip
to famine
I dance and I trip my feet in a whisk
traces of where I lived in a trendy cuming
left me yearning a left over sense that
the breath is stunning, too young to change this bloody wanting
churning

Came as you were a clown in tears
to linger these cracked spaces in my lasting lips of master taste
to thirst
the bed I made in love and hate
caresses my whispering dreams and wakes
causing cough and spit and waste in craze
today and red stain upon the sheet
a miscounted busy street in a tormented town burning in need
where wires trade in words so wanting
churning

Looks in colored licks of purple
laundry piles in a governing carelessness
and the mold that stains the basin washes everything that you are
closing the stars in my future wars to be so diligent and to work in a stingy bar
the calories I take are for you to feel later and for I to smell so sweet when I open my leak at night
to know your doings in the back of my body and remind myself of a nightly
wanting
churning

Camera Man

I dwell between the discs of the spine
in those fibers my muscles tire so much.
I relax as he lies awake on my stomach
listening in on all the natural grows and twists.
We rest in a sweet caress.
The focus is extremely zoomed into his face
I squint admiring the pores
Then, I live each second at its beginning.
I love the way his jaw fits in my palm
and how he changes his expression
when he catches me starring.
My waist holds the weight of his body.
My hips curve even fuller with his body
like cats procrastinating flirtingly
when their reflexes catch my petting hands.
The minutes inch by and I keep looking
like I'm sure this will never happen again,
like the day will fade to a black star
and my eyes will be useless to its beauty.

I dream about these things...
those that just make the thoughts drift.
I catch and place in my pocket
a sparkle lost in his eye,
a place only I could find.
The sounds that interrupt insatiably
the corridor of a tired church
are like these thoughts of mine
in weak moments here and there...
Everywhere!
As I tell the whole world
through innocent body language and flare
I convey how purely caring really lives inside me.
Caring less about the imperfections
that disappear with awkward but wise time.
Looking for the coming moment
I will zoom out
unveil the full image...
Eye to Eye.
Stare into the perfect face of an unfound man
born to lie across my shape.
Born to be mine.