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i can’t bet everything on the
way you look at me in the evening
but words — i know about words, about
the language of you and i, and
the power behind whatever is
stuck in your throat

tell me what your hands cannot; explain
your teeth in my shoulder and your palm
against my neck. don’t be so quick to
touch and so slow to speak
i’m just looking for an answer
that isn’t your chest against mine


Please, my darling, be patient with yourself.
You are not the erratic wind, rushing for the sake of rushing,
And you are not the tide, being forced back and forth by the pull of another.
You are the seed, who must endure all that nature has to offer
And allow yourself to grow slowly,
As you become stronger and taller
In your own time.
You may lose your leaves for a season, your fruit may be taken for a while,
But slowly, they will return and you will be as full of life as ever.
But please, my darling, be patient with yourself.


I dont write long poems
Because i do not like to dwell on what hurts 

I try to keep them short
a cut through the air 
Quickly healed 
But the scar still remains 

I do not like long poems
They pull at your stomach 
Like rope dragging you away
But your feet are cemented to the ground

And you are tied in the words 
Like binding you cant escape 
He is a long poem

He left me lost with in myself 
Breathing words that are now memories 
And never meant a thing 

He was the only long poem I ever liked 
His words,
No matter how dusty and trivial
Enchanted and felt like music 
raising bumps on my skin 

And now i hate long poems
I hate their lies
in’s an out’s 
A mask for feeling 

And I hate long poems
because I cant hate him
My favorite long poem

I can’t hate the words that
pull at my stomach
while my feet are cemented to the ground
Because he wrote them 

And look what a long poem i wrote for him


hear the recording

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