Sweet September: the Things I Remember


scribbled on a cocktail napkin on September 8th

The dogs are digging for field mice and 
My tongue
is made of warm, salted caramel
I'm breathing a healthy mix of fear 
and contentment 
Like heavy-weighted chocolate,
A dark and dangerous sweetness 
Thickly filling my chest cavity, my mouth 
And spilling from my Midwest lips.


These quaint tragedies we invent,
They're crawling along my veins 
Like the cool breeze that's serenading 
My feverish skin, and
The symbolism of the wind -- 
No longer bearing fire and 
Destruction (breeds creation) -- 
Suddenly, is viciously striking...
(That invisibly sweeping movement fanning the
Carnage of heat)
Oh yes, fall is decidedly nearly here 
At last,
I'm streamlining these wispy, dreamlike 
Castle-house neighborhoods, these haunting streets,
Cradling nostalgia like a newborn and
Craving everything unspeakable.




Mutual catharsis


I remember your eyes across the tin table etchings,
the smooth burn of adulterated tea and sidecars
Lining my throat with confessions
I had yet to understand, 
Roughly loving
Together we are strangers enamored
Or
the burn of unfulfilled real potential
Maybe the scream of whiskey hills with
Head plugged into chest, 
Heartbeat rumbling like
A distant train in the 
Hawkish, sticky night.


I remember thinking,
I would wrinkle my nose for you always,
Climb you like my favorite tree
Mold my lap into a bassinet for your
Weary, well-traveled head.


With every soft-spoken "hi"
I couldn't help thinking
"I like us together",
like
Perfect home-fries with homemade
ketchup Or 
Flawless omelets with
Provincial veggies,
Like making intuitive sense,
the sensory delight of
Fat fresh-baked biscuits and 
fig-mint-gin preserves.


I remember wondering if you noticed
Me noticing
that in the midst of our reflective
Loving gazes
You would close your eyes for the
Briefest
of moments 
as if you couldn't 
adequately maneuver the 
Wide Breadth of your affection.


And the deflated mattress reminded me
That nothing supportive
Lasts without frequent maintenance, 
But perfection and expectation are
Overrated and 
Pale in comparison to the 
Tangible ferocity of 
Two body-beings pressed together like
Mutual catharsis. 


Do you remember?
The thick sex of dust and that 
indescribably spellbinding smell,
Cottonwoods or maybe Hickory
Some kind of mysterious burning leaves, 
Unseen --
And Me, pitching into your frame like
A lean-to battered by the rain,
Your shelter wrapping tight and
Filling me quietly like 
Whispered bleacher reticence.

I remember: Unspoken sharing,
Our matched longing for a stone-cabin with 
Climbing walls and a smoking chimney,
Some kind of ghostly private nest 
For a pair of bluebirds
Taking in the city lights from pre-pubescent
Hilltops. 






Wobbly


Aspens fall in the forest with a delicate
Sound that awakens me 
Each night, without fail.


I remember everything,
I remember you the most.

And where are you in this mess,

Where are you now?

Are you fighting to hold on,

as long as you are able

Until I fall away, merely

A tree dream?

Are you lacking coordination or

Nursing the remembrance, 

That unwavering Elegant Universe

The heaving breasts of our 

Sweaty Affection?

Do you see me

Watching you 

over shared coffee (with cinnamon),

Wanting to be
yours always,

something atypical but overly sweet

with a kick, like

Lover's delight or chai

with soy and malted eyes?

Where are you now?

the last ferry out


Who knows what tomorrow may bring
Maybe sunshine and maybe rain
Maybe I'll see you again and
Again we'll find whole
Or we'll start all over
Maybe spring will break open and the
winter won't take hold or
have left us broken
Maybe
Someday this old machine will
feel no pain

But tonight your thoughts evade me
I'm crawling and holding
my hands out, but you
You are walled away
Another state....of mind
Arms and chest and touch, faded
from me as skeletons
Some supposedly necessitated form of
sensory deprivation
So far and stretching longer
They say distance makes the heart grow...
stronger.
"Time heals everything"
But only love can cry and buckle, like this
Distance wrings me out and
Dries my eyes with this
Strange stiff remoteness
between us.
Skeleton me.

Seems like a long time since I've
been above you, known and loved you
You're folding need like laundry
and dodging bullets or
Keeping a safe, (close) distance like
a Ghostwriter
Playing the cards just right
Coloring inside the lines
like you promised
Half-heartedly tending the fire
Aces and evasion of solitude but
Fuck,
I know you feel beneath this
The aching bones underneath
The blood firing bullets
Waiting for some passionate
words to shatter skin and spill over
My blue translucent flesh
You must see through me,
See my need and hear me
Read my words and remember
Surely,
you must..

Still be full
of those
Surprise shooting stars,
watched in tandem
From the safety of a
sentimental trampoline,
From the wild spinning of
an oddly calming
Carousel.

Our tangled limbs,
they wrestle daily struggle
Crushing unspoken into
carpet burn
But I will not allow these sparks
to be smothered and
Fuck,
I know this was my idea but
All I want in this moment
is to be alone with you,
To climb you and clamber inside
Soften your thudding heart
and feel your pleasure tearing along my skin
like shredded scrapbooks
Or something equally meaningless
in the light of growing up and
moving on.


You've ruined me now.

Ruined, skeleton me
Flightless bird
With a wretched hopeless
heart of scalded gold.
Sell it in the pawnshop and
We'll call it a Fold,
call it
a night.

Into the muck, together
Feel free to listen
Feel free to
to stay around,
To wait it out or
Fuck,
feel free to hurdle this fence and
Take the last ferry out.

I am the watch you never wear. I am your lonely waking. I am the rain in your hair. I am your spirit aching. I am that extra ingredient your pantry lacks. I am lost and found. As the days roll by, I am their sound. I am the beauty of pattern. I am the belt against bare skin. I am the funk that you're in. I am your black coffee jitters. I am fresh-cut bangs. I am your first fall sweater. I am childhood board games. I am blissful ignorance. I am your old friend insomnia. I am the wind that starts wildfires. I am fear of corners. I am your favorite soft t-shirt. I am skipped meals. I am methodical airplane safety measures. I am gullible travels. I am awkward family photos. I am the bruises of allegorical ghosts. I am drug-induced dreams. I am the rug that ties the room together. I am the broken record player. I am your earned sweat. I am the comfort of fortuitous happenstance. I am the coyotes crying in the distance. I am the abyss of politics. I am drought. I am the defense of heretics. I am the hole left behind by umbilical cord. I am dilated desires. I am catastrophic complacency. I am the rhythm of settling. I am the glamour of nostalgia. I am your mother's silence. I am the burn in your throat. I am the call of the wild. I am melted ice cream. I am the itching scars.  I am the creaking tables in dusty, ancient bars. I am the gloaming magic. I am the sting of solitude. I am the undiscovered aptitude. I am dandelion wishes. I am the symbolism of unwashed dishes. I am the secrets of puberty. I am fanatical astrology. I am garage sale treasures. I am the unspoken chemistry.

The seasons have already begun 
to change and 
I can see the harvest moon and smell 
the trees prepping for pre-hibernation
shedding 
of layers and skins
Such timeworn yearning 
ready to be buried and dissolved
into the dirt's flawless complexion.


I want to fill my senses
and swim until I wash this decay
away
and my lungs swallow the
distance,
until I feel your bare skin
touch mine in the endless
waters, stretching tight
and perfectly near to 
the heat of me. 


I am so ravenous for you,
you see
You see me beneath 
this
messy, haphazard packaging
these wide eyes tangled hair and
trapped need
running so fast and racing time 
Sweating for something
only you understand
as me,
Real and burning for autumn.
Burning for the newness
Crawling toward 
that ripeness
within the breadth of your arms
and the precision of
your gaze.