searching for the one eyed jesus.

he said he wanted curtains
to live where the light seeped through
but it was already morning against bare window pane
along with the bareness of her skin exposed
she could no longer count the lines that defined her palms
her will lay on a towel
curled beneath the bed
and what if she could complain
tell the sky
and weep like rain
consideration is always considered
but couldn’t the fall free an explanation
never mind the heat of conversation
desert lines up to meet the water
he lined up to meet the words
un-curtained from the threat
his touch cant describe
the neck line
and this is what he gave her
light and morning and skin
and this is all he would give her
she wouldn’t ask for more
couldn’t
because breaking down the moment
that should be taken back
lived too far down the road in front of her
and speaking truth seeped between the night and the day
and breathed in neither
she adjusted herself to trust in occurrence
as he sat
between silence
and agitation gone unseen
mistaking anothers heart beat
for the rhythm of his own
im telling you now
you missed your one eyed jesus

november second.

im reaching towards the past for you
trying to read between lines that hold you pivitol
i asked you how you lived
your life before you knew me
although i didn’t care to know of time and space and listless seasons
the way they know and cling to history
not with you
not that way
because now is something different then before
and this i’ll say with confidence
this is how i’ll ask you
to knot the world
tie the strings of lovers to the anchor of a boat you’ve already sailed out to sea
and if i was your lady
would you be my mister
in the sailors water of ocean blue
spread like honey between wet and board and you
lay in curls of each other
folds of sweat and scruff and smell
the coffee didn’t hold the heat
the morning effected the light
and then you were going
i know all about it
straighten out the right and wrong
but not right now
in the silence of lips and lust and lacked love
you wanted to drive up the 80 where the borders reach the chaos
in quite reasoning
i’ll recollect all the hours
minutes given minute detail in the corners of my mind
to give three days more length
of time spent with you
and how do I live the day towards all the other days
be here in a moment you say
drink your orange juice
finish your breakfast
get up and make the bed
call your father to talk about your mother
and its here that you have become the hollow of anticipation
stored in my chest cavity
burrowed into my life