Twelve is the Name of Everything We've Never Loved

I took your hand in my small confused mind and cupped your cherry face in my hands but could never look into your eyes and see that you could still hear the flights of the terrors of the future. We gripped the side of the talons of fear and held on for dear death in hopes that the fall would be beautiful. The crashing burn of life and the fire of the inhabitants of each fickle hour we spend. Tired orgasms that rang over and over inside the television man's tilted screen. Gasping for life and a longing for a beautiful way to spill over into the furthest dimension. The crackle of bones and the smile of the saddest man wounded each creature that conquered what they had feared the most. Each movement of the bowing ferns turned the next new birth into plummet into the darkest chasm.

While the world slept in the tiniest thimble, the scientists fell victim to the woes of the mind and cowered underneath the veil of smoke and exhaustion. Beakers and vials to cure the hunger of the window's sadness and kill the disease of each shattered glass window. The mathematician fought against the fallen trees but only used the constants of their own realities to solve the bottled emotions that plagued the tired houses. The rain slid its fingernails down the side of her face and took her happiness and sold each piece back to the ocean. But her limbs knew her better than she thought had kept the pace of the tracks as they skipped and babbled on the record player. Collapsing onto the white hospital floor, her head struck open with the calls of reality and the crickets and frogs sprung from her. The fragments of love hovered through her being and touched every lonely man so that he, for a brief moment, knew the feeling of a punch from the wars of the past. She lay on the white floor and smiled at the mirrors and bandages that got her here. The warm lick of fire grazed the soul of the lost socks in the washer that no longer wanted someone to find them. Screaming from every rooftop, she knew that the loss and magic of death were kept in a tiny vial on the kitchen counter. White walls, white house, white clothes, white wine. Wrapped in the securities of knowing her own father, she lifted every pine needle inside her and felt her way to the glass. The tapping of her woodpecker hand on the opaque eyes of every onlooker rustled the time frame under which she understood reality. All the scientists saw was a dead body with the answer to the half life of love.


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I was gonna do another but I'll do it later. Pickled fish lips.

Vagina Lead Line Easter

So I thought to be scared of what I didn't know and what I had never seen but she knew that I could fly and I smiled. The door dropped open and the flocks of scarves I had never acknowledged sprung from the starting gate for flowers and tigers. Nodding from the grapefruit man, I tilted the pitcher and drooping language splattered from the depths of another subconscious. I still didn't know if I could or if the colors of my legs knew how to gallop along with the footage. My jaw dropped back into the second kaleidoscope as the sprouting feathers draped across the riverside. The underbrush writhed under the rising emotion and tears spewed from the gates of what we had come to see as a man's crooked mind. Dancing through woes and put into perspective, we saw that we could walk along with the promotion of everything including the tracks of bones laid by those we had never seen. Invisible bodies dragged across the mountains making rows of teacups as they toppled into the birds of the future. 'Okay, okay, okay' words shattered out of hidden windows of our relationship. 'Please don't take any care of the children' I had said to you before we flew the coop from all of the responsibility our creators had forgotten to give us. You turned your opinion to face my tears and said 'He told me to live a life with love and loss and never think of the day you never knew.' My sorrow blushed as his honesty and the tiny creases made new worlds at the points where they met.

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Dropped kicked into a future of tears and fires, the trees ebbed back to the shore of the melting twelves and nines. A metamorphosis of the communal mind twisted through what we saw through the eyes of the flickering owls. I never made time to see myself anymore and I knew that everyone had seen the weathered lies we tried to show the rest of the world. Through the yellowed film strips I took everything I had and threw my mind into the ocean. Like magnets we lived the thrills and died in the fires we created in the widow's old home. We killed the phantoms of the baked bread and filled our heads with empty notes and packaged tampons. The sadness of our limbs ate through the tires of the rolling police cars firing down the lane like bottles of- FIRE FIRE FIRE. Now the towers fell near the homeless shouts that I sent to your brother with a postage stamp. Running past the emptied trees the sky blanketed the flowers like a melted chocolate chip. I saw your face in the water of the canopy and the- FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE. I didn't know how to run anymore and the crippled stumps and branches hobbled beside the fallen birds. They cried for the magic and the death of all things that could know their tired secrets. We wanted to love in mystery and figure the pieces of our limbs into a broken bicycle that no one rode. The lashes of the celestial shadows trembled into the darkened people of our own golden city. They were quiet and knew we had finished the future.