Zebyn, Baylu, Feb, 5, 04
I don’t know where to begin.
When I first moved into my
home I used my black boots
to prop open my window. It is
always cold in my room.
Tuesday night Outlaw was hit
by a car. he is doing well, but
the experience has reminded
me of our mortality, and of
our curse and blessing in the
ability to realize that we are.
I live in routine. Wake, sleep,
work, drink. I do not drink anymore.
And now I think. And think.
it is hard to remember how
to hope. What it is to love. It is
hard to understand how i want
to live - and to follow through
with it.
It is hard to be and not
become dead with thought
and sadness.
I am married to daydream.
Reality mostly feels like
a day dream. I find my
heart beating too quickly, and
breathe fast and short.
It is your birthday soon.
Years in a day have passed since
the summer. So much change and
not at all.
It is your birthday in four
days. You will be 19
{Signed} Sofi k
I am broken tin,
watching the birds with oil wings
indifferently follow
the loosing wind.
I threw a blood rose into
the sea
and let myself collapse.
The crows that used to
accompany me are gone
my tears are reckless
as I abandon my skin.
______________
LOVE Familiarity (in GREEK, Storge)
Friendship (Philia)
Romantic desire(eros)
Diving love (agape)
_______________
Never Piss numbers at her door, she is the woman, swallowing the lights of the formed chamber.
_______________
I.
Lines in my bones to a marble tongue -
all of the children but none of us, our letters--
God unicorn, wallowing Egypt, I looked for your wrists
Lord, they’re
in my mind. I looked for the curve of your small nails handling our cigarette
collective., that burned to a butt inside the ashtray -
I left your memories at state route 85, to press together
tears in a present, box with wrapping paper - none of your hair, three packs of coffee, and one pack of coffee, and six cups of cigarette - and i found a bag of hash brown’s
on the ground - Latin Amor, Greek Eros, Greek Agape -
II.
Living plastic gnome, and succulent hunger - in pale tobacco loops -
Hair stiff in a marble tongue, eroded Walter tongue. The giant sandwich walls, holy bible hunger, and portfolio floating clouds, within balloon hands -these rain turning
__________
i miss the shallow reach for a solitude I have created with my new letter in the attic - it takes a fishing line
before I make it through her writing - special me - a whole extended leaf -
calm from her makeup, all reckless flowers drifting -
Greek Philia, Latin Amor, Greek Agape
