march 29, 2001

i would be the last
to know,
where it is now, your
blue skin's
wandered

i hope egypt doesn't
crumble under a
thick curtain of smoke

i hope all is well in your
manhood, as
young as it is

and i will always love
your summer sandals
march 30, 2001

i packed my suitcase
and headed to your island.

the sky was blue.
the water. blue.
the veins that wrapped
around your arms like a
river. blue.

and everything else about
you.
dark.

i came home to find my
insides, lying lifeless.
almost dead.

and i did not wake
until morning.
march 30, 2001

i hold you within me.
i caress your face with
everything imaginary i
have.
miles away.

i hold you within me,
and i grip you  tightly
to the ideal.
the must have.

the heart breaking.

the reassuring.

the one girl who formed
the wind.
march 31, 2001

waiting for you gives a feeling
of burning wax.

gives a feeling of missing
a holiday,
off to the mountains with
no calendar.

or a compass.

i miss you already and
you will be
leaving
some day soon.

if not right now.

my back alley runaway.
march 31, 2001

i am carelessly filling out
the time and date
of you dying

peeling away the skin
i made on you

soft back
hard arms
heavy feet

that turn blue
and stamp me out

i am carelessy filling out
the warm space
you made within me

peeling away the skin
that always grows back

no matter what junkie
march 31, 2001

2 am.
lakewood avenue.

cold throat and your
clear sky.

i can see now what i
never could.

and i could walk for
a million of your miles
out here.

i could sing the earth a song.

home holds me to the ground,
your words hanging
above me.
april 1, 2001

your thoughts are pulling me
every which way.

Which Way:
where the truth lies, where the crowds are buried.

where the chance is buried,

that you were nothing like
the rest.

not like a wind rider,
a face stealer, how
you take this smile

and leave nothing, then.
april 2, 2001

a chapter closed.
finale.

i read this book
where every woman he
had touched and
ever loved
floated above him whenever
the grey clouds came.

all remnants of a time
when he wasn't insane.

it's such a cloudy day,
and your

eyes beam dark in
the folds of the sky
H