Times, they're changing.


When they ask me about him,

I like to say this:

he was precisely disarming.

It came to my attention that

there was a certain obscure

lacuna that lied in

the transitioning

of his days.

Perhaps, he was the moon

aswell as it’s altering




The more we corresponded,

the more I felt like Lazarus.

Like a celestial onion,

as each layer peeled,

my raw skin was trialed.

It made one

thing very clear:

I was very human.


The type of human

who puts all faith

in the night,

and is consumed

by the government

of thoughts, feelings,

and the tender, youthful

self-prescribed madness

that seems to vanish along

with the moon

at the dawn of a new day.


Only in his absence.



At times I believe he is the new moon

and I am the full.

Since, we are precisely in tune,

we prevaricate.



May 3
When they ask me about him

I could say I’m unconsumed by you,

but rings of smoke on my hand

flourish under blue moons,

and I too have slept in smoke

did my silence ever warm you?

I could assume the color of the sky

is a better projection of the ocean

and maybe that the rain is an excuse

for the sky to kiss the face of her source

of both sorrows and enlightenment

I could have lived in sinful piety

in the arms of fruits,

and with flowers as eyes

but I too have slept in dirt

so is my worth like holy nectar?

I could assume that in another morning

I would finally wake up to a two headed man

one who says words like “love”

and the other who hugs me like his mother

I could say i’m unconsumed by you

Apr 2
I could say I’m unconsumed by you

You sold your soul for some jack and gin,
a house of cards and a show time grin.
It’s your game, so you win.

Half a lie, why so cynical?
Funny face, you’re mystical.
I believe in you.

You’re the king of this town
with a cigarette and a paper crown.
Drink up, wash it down.

China doll with glass sphere eyes.
She took a bite and fell from the sky,
grew wings of gilded butterflies.

Painted face, velvet dress,
pearl and lace.
A perfumed mess.

Apr 2
Jack and Gin (song)

I’m dreaming of the city,
because that’s where I see you stand
pass the skyline or 
in a taxi cab

We thought the chances were slim
like water in a glass, bulging at the brim.
We’ve learned that it’s hard to belong
to something that’s gone.

But, I think I’m lucky
No one else has ever struck me
much like a disaster, 
with chemicals and laughter.

You’re an exception to me
my indulgent vacancy
and I’ve learned to remain detached.
It helps with the
motion sickness
in a taxi cab.

Mar 26
(in a taxi cab)

Love is salty

Like when you excessively sprinkle it over sunny side eggs.

Love is salty

like when you walk deep enough into the ocean so you can taste it.

Love is salty

It helps wounds (however depending on your tolerance it can hurt a whole lot).

Love is salty

like your tears and mine.

Love is salty

like the rims on margaritas.

Love is salty

and deep in the mines.

Love is salty

and a savior to our dehydrated bodies.

Love is salty

like the dead sea we never visited.

Love is salty

and good for preserving things that may spoil.

Jul 10
Love is Salty

Mississippi Mud.
We played in the dirt with our new clothes.
Prior, to that we were getting drunk off the ink in our pens.
We were hungry and searching for cigarettes,
trying to live the suppression of the past four months.
Our thoughts were stopped by a train.
We were sad and with a stranger.
Our downfalls were plastered in gold,
they represented the most honest thing in us.
Everything we were taught seemed irrelevant,
if it had to be taught it wasn’t natural.
We were deprived of love,
for each other and for a moment,

Jul 10
Mississippi Mud.

I saw you walk in as a stranger
You were here on a business trip,
but you really came for the theme parks
and because you wanted to buy time
from me.

You asked me nicely, so I did everything.
I lit the candles and in the moments of a low burn,
the lines had all melted.
The ice cream had all melted.
We didn’t even eat any.
We didn’t even talk.

You were making fun of my toes.
You were here on a business trip.
You were melting too, and so was time.

I wish I knew the fundamentals
of a brisk, tactile encounter
and I wish
I could buy time
from you.

Jul 10
Melted Ice cream.

A lonely menace
In the thoughts of a realm 
a lasting fear of tranquility.
I approach a keener eye
a sheer judgement of reality 
Unaware of where I stand 
or my choice of road
I am a lonely reflection 
of someone in a world of prose
I sigh as I stare among the stars in space
and I think of those that are lost
For they have escaped to the world unseen
and have left their dust as frost.

Jul 10
World of Prose