Category Archives: internals

thoughts, musings, life, etc

dreamt i was missing

i was lost in the city that i used to know so well, around and around the same block, it was getting later and later and a simple cup coffee with old friends turned into some nightmare where i couldn’t find a phone to call you, to tell you i was so lost, walking into the same bodega asking the clerk behind the counter if i could use the cell phone he was talking into, and he kept smiling talking into the phone in his native language while taking condoms, batteries, cigarettes, cheap cigars off hooks from behind him and offering each in turn to me and i wasn’t smiling and he didn’t seem to mind and it was getting impossibly later into the early morning hours, over and over, until the doors of the bogeda were even locked and he no longer paid any attention to me, knocking on the other side of the bullet-proof glass.

he breathes

he walks into a room he looks at her she weeps
he moves forward he says her name she moves backwards
he breathes
he touches her face she looks at his hands he closes his eyes
he moves a stray hair she weeps he draws his hand back
he breathes
he pulls away she opens her eyes she says his name
he weeps shes draws her hand back he opens his eyes
he breathes

ach, crap. let’s try this instead

he breathes her into a room where she is weeping and finds her beautiful. he moves a stray hair from her cheek and she touches his hand. she says, don’t. he moves across the room where she is breathing him weeping into hands that are calloused from rubbing sandpaper into walls. she says, don’t, again and he opens his eyes. she is still beautiful breathing and he pulls away into the corner where the lamp sits on a dresser. he says her name and she moves forward around the corner of the bed by him. he breathes her touching his cheek but he is no longer beautiful. she takes his hand and pulls him to where the sheets meet the bed.

blunt piece of metal

the day ends with a soft chill that traces its way up my leg and stops short. in the middle of the night i heard a thump and i snapped out of bed grabbing a leftover tool with a metal edge whose name i didn’t know. i prowl around peering into mirrors, waiting to confront some one, any one, to put these goosebumps across my skin at ease. i work through hallways the way a mouse burrows within the veins of a corpse. hungry and sterile, blurry eyed and angry. hundreds of times i’ve done this and it never wears out the tread. alone with a blunt piece of metal in the dark, waiting for an excuse.

spider song

i dreamt of spiders coming out of my hair with lilacs and orchids and they each sang a song i once remembered and i tried so hard to separate the orchids from the rest as they rained down my face carrying with them the words i couldn’t put my finger on and a part of me wanted to cover my ears to keep the song out of my head but i didn’t want the spiders to leave they were so graceful and soft but they had much better places to go and sing their song and the lilacs kept sticking to my hands