and i don't know how the labels work

every now and then rain
bundles on windows, pillows
across my eyes and the pond
invades. there are no stories here
just dull clouds and backlit droplets.
where is world more beautiful
than in the contemplation of sleep
lack of pain, sufficiency.

i wanted to write a poem
that would tell you the secret
you've been hiding from yourself
but you say you know it.

you ask me questions and supply
the answers but i am not so predictable
as the mass of an element. chemistry
while the mechanism of reality
lends itself for a fortnight to magic.
the audience can't tell the difference.

there is about you no sense of the past
where your scars were formed. you arise
singular, unique in this time frame, carrying
no burdens from nine other lives. yet
you aren't a cat and this is no riddle.

when you delve deep enough you see them
through the eyes of a dog,  lost before
you knew what would happen. aleutian puppy blue.

bear with me, i can feel something trying to speak.
it's your birthday so i wanted to give you something
from those times. i'm almost sure alchemy played a part.


imagine a margin as engine of genius/ fish scales
and lamellae form armor and you swim the interstice.

the wind does this when you die, for we are made of wind
and become clouds when we die.this came from a ram's
bleat as the knife descended

you have been praying for three days, calling
for a god to exist. the rosary tangles in your fingers
bones seeking a cape but you skipped catechism

the joyous is the lake, a kind of concubine, twinned
fevers for the youngest but deepest.

the word may come, may give the eye
but horus lays sleeping these many years
afloat on a river you named after him.

with their voices they call me, risen
above the grind of engines and hum of water
they hunt in a pride, take down the carrion

 a sharp tooth.  the hall consisted of two snow huts
connected to the outside. there were recognisable roles
to play and we took to them like royalty.

the burden of the sea's desert, a whirlwind in its mouth.
if only you could have decided then what it was all for
the next time would not have been so hard.

























()())()()


but you rally don't want to know about that.
so i basically have no insight there.
and the way your birth went, we were all surprised
to see you walking. we just didn't know.

my hair knots again. it's making a celtic rune
for me to turn into a bracelet. we bind
through moonstone and keratin.

i could tell you of the loss of nice
how you once were but now are burdeningyou sepeak
of neediness as if it were foreign to you
yet i seldom get time to write.
what's up with that/ o yes
i forget to honor how we love.
the pain that melts at a touch.
the way we avoid each other's bad moods.

maybe seven years will not turn us into new people after all.
or maybe the new people will still love eachotheras now
pain makes us stupid. this is not the poem i wanted to write.
























()_)(((


soft  light seeps around
 edges of  thick blinds
watery. cloistered, we wait
  for  morning.
i gulp the air between us
feed it back to you. a flame
 ignites and we are golden
 carp breaking
 the surface of the sun.