17.7.06

today i heard you in the most hauntingly beautiful song. just as if you had stretched across the divide and let your forehead rest against my temple. i heard you like you were whispering softly in my ear. your breath moved across the skin of my neck and it made me shiver.

oh, so now here it is. to come out of me like it had never stopped, i'm spinning around and drawing myself in from the world. and you're coming too, like dust motes that you can only see swirling in white rays of sun. they never move quickly, but they are everywhere and nowhere all at once. they do sparkle in the sun of musty rooms. rooms which, then again, aren't really musty at all.

12.6.06

only words listen to me, only circuits, and blind lines of code. i am lonely this way, accompanied only by two very different kinds of keyboards. carpal tunnel escapes me for now, at least. but i figure if i keep my wrists unrounded as they are it will find me eventually. i want to pull you out of the screen, like a baby being born. you'd be covered in chips and motherboards and electric things when i finally tear you out. but i want you to stand next to me, not separated by the thousands of words that don't fill anything; words and letters that somehow make an empty chasm. i'm typing frantically as though i can smash this thing and find you huddled inside.

Sometimes I Imagine Lava People

Sometimes, I imagine lava people
Monochromatic green, billowing, and amorphous as ideas
Who meander through a liquid enclosure.
Up and down they move,
Plummetting unwillingly upward
From their communal pool
Of greenstuff where all begins

Sometimes, I imagine lava people
Who collide but refuse to blend together
Until the very end of their trajectory,
When they return to the green base.

Then there’s no choice but to mingle,
And to further lose an already
Nebulous identity.