VI

you were beautiful when you smiled
and introduced yourself

you were beautiful when we held hands
strolling the pier in the night

and you were beautiful
even as you got in your car and drove away for the last time

but your beauty is just an instrument

to measure the hell i am in
these days

V

white spider
was a song
in sodium droplets

i was 27% burnt
pray i never live to be one hundred

i am fatigued
in ash of the sun

and we are
just a poem
in need of revisions

IV

her voice
painted a pair of doves
on the ceiling of his cranium

pretty
and special

eyes roll back to have a look

and they find
a pair of doves
on the ceiling of his cranium...

they're the last he'll ever see

proverbial debris
in the wishing well

strange rainbows
for salvage crews

he poured the gasoline all around himself
but misplaced the matchbook

failing comes naturally
and as an art form

he'll stop caring
love will devour itself
stars will rain down

and he will never have to make sense again

III

little embraces
for the flower god
set high atop our dead universe

dead flowers
in the garbage
used once and then discarded

it feels like im waiting
for the phone to ring
but it's pressed against my ear

the closer i get to her voice
the farther away i feel

we will become dead things
and i will return

to darkness

to decay

just as any fallen lemon

would

everything to par

it's getting worse

the gagging thing that happens
when i inhale a cigarette

sometimes i worry.

i saw a rainbow
the other day

blended perfectly
between earth and sky

i wonder sometimes

i feel sometimes

that maybe
i'm not going to make it

in a funny sort of way
it would almost make sense

exocerebral: 06/22/11 cindy dream

shes wearing a white dress with black stockings
we're walking the field
at my elementary school
it feels like a date

in the middle of the field
we come upon a awkwardly large golf cart with large tires
she takes the wheel and i ride shotgun
she starts it up and we're moving
we're searching for an atm machine
we want to buy sandwiches

the school is suddenly a pub
we end up seated inside with her friends
friends i have never met
five hispanic guys
button up shirts and short neat hair cuts
we are all laughing and drinking
she walks over to one of them
and sits on his lap
me and her friend look at each other for a few moments
he recognizes my jealousy

jump to an unkept parking lot with weeds and cracked uneven asphalt
it's just me and cindy and the sun is extremely bright
like our eyes are not adjusted
we're saying our goodbyes
i notice her car
a 1948 buick
street rod low rider
white paint and in pristine condition
she begins talking about the restorative process it underwent
implying all the while she did it herself

i wake up.

I

desperate
things dream
in snow
capped lungs

ghosts just
slipping right through
the cracks
as they do

and everything collapsed
around us

the cold night air
being the only thing that sustained

everything just seemed to fall asleep
that night

so now
i dream of us
nestled in your sheets

like we would never rise
from anything
ever again