Saturday, June 30, 2007

someday

someday i will ask you if i was a disappointment.

Monday, June 25, 2007

books and a water glass

i spent my entire paycheck on books and organic tea and drinks last night. i found calvino and monroe and others. or maybe they found me.
we met by the flower shop and walked the streets at midnight. i put my last two crumpled dollars under my water glass.
i have two dimes, some pennies, and a bunch of british coins in my wallet. but there are six new books on my shelf and i'm happy.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Your green-eyed girl

turn around and look at me. i'm seven letters and a smile, i'm your green-eyed past, your blonde-haired girl.

4 am summer

day four and i've gotten used to missing you. i'm learning to ignore the pain in my stomach and constriction in my chest: it's a part of me now. you're a part of me now.
it's my summer morning. 4 am just like i always told you. it's my time and you're not here. you're in baltimore where there is no 4 am light and no thunder air.

not like there is here.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

i wish i could have you forever



"i wish i could have you forever."

sequence still sparkles when the sun goes down. sunglasses are glamour and glitter is magic. they sing from the porch; be strong, be strong. the beach is caught in their tangled hair and the salt is in their skin. blanket laughter and bedtime secrets and eyelashes dusting cheeks.

i wish i could have you forever, just like this.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

spray paint memories

it wasn't the kind of day for a man to die.

spray paint on sidewalks, pictures in boxes, faded artist statements... you're inside it all.
they'll toast to you tonight. it's your memorial, boy.

Monday, June 18, 2007

piano in the river

these are the nights you remember, the ones with old friends and good music.

we sat on the hood of my car and talked about travel. under planets like fireflies, we talked about the world. we shared blankets and beer in the dark. we listened to piano and violin under the lamppost. small under the sky, our words fell into the river and we knew they meant something there; they'd been waiting to sink to the bottom and claim it. it's been seven years; the words are piling up. soon they'll reach the surface and everyone will know. everyone will know.

these are the nights you remember, the nights you remember why you're alive.

Monday, June 04, 2007

save pompeii

we found home that day.

we were the first to cherish those lost ruins, the only ones to feel the secret city beneath our feet. we were explorers. we were natives. we were friends.

we were heroes,
saving the city thousands of years too late.