beach glass

the shore had been growing
for some time,
and while I was busy
squishing my toes
in the wet sand
where you pulled back
your ocean,

I didn't notice the wave.

I'm flooded with the notion
that you secretly like to drown,
and though I've been
sucked into the rip-tide
I know eventually,
I'll be able to ride the wave
back to where I want to be.

and you will no longer crack
the empty bottle
my heart once was for you
when you treated it like trash.

you won't seep inside.

my heart may be broken right now
but to you, it will become
a most peculiar assortment
of stones.
and each time you wash over me
the pieces will lose more
of their shine for you;

the subtle abrasiveness
you've been carrying with you
like many grains of sand
will provide the etching needed
to dull the pain
and smooth the jagged edges
with which I want to cut you,
but can't.

though left on the shore
created by your distance,
the stones will no longer resemble
something rejected:

I'll be left with jewels,
and they will not be for you.
I will polish them
until they shine for me.

eventually,

my
broken
heart

will
be

the
best
gift

you've
ever
given

me.

(from April 2006)

untitled

she almost hears a sound when she reconnects to the universe in which she is most comfortable. it's a juicy noise, cerebral and sensual, thrilling in a contemplative way. beauty is expressed in the pure logic of chaos; there is math in the curves of her body.

so ass on the pier,
she assesses the current,
wanting to feel the earth move.
vice replaces good advice,
opening her up to
constructive criticism
and even more to prove.

the rain gives the humidity life and the air becomes an entity that leaves a trace.

(from 05 August 2006)

analysis

tangled in my reality
is my perception
of my messy room
somewhere far
enough from here
to be a chaos
I can define
but not successfully
analyze

like my room
my heart has become
cluttered
my life a chaos
I can define
but not successfully
analyze

(from 26 July 2006)

tangibility

proving my existence
through decadence,
wanton jubilation
to do is reality
and here I am,
a manifestation of my ego's
universe.
collectively,
we ascertain our tangiblity.

(from 12 August 2006)