bay area, october

when wine is my blood
i can wake.
"ahh, now this, finally,
will do"
---------------------------------------
sf october summer
im out in the streets: wigs!
dancing! vulgarity!
at some man's house right now who is asleep on pain meds
he thought i was cute
he made me wash my feet and cut my nails
he made me a small bottle of cologne
he asked if i was bored
i ask what's the point of your beauty,
keep what you have or give it away

ive a new pink bob wig
i live under its pink bangs
with folks asking
"is there anything good in there?"
yes! there's me
AND who is touching my neck?

when i grow up i want to be beautiful
and have beautiful things and
say things like "yes"
dragging my fingertips through the store
chest throbbing
this outfit
this outfit could be it

the beautiful are getting ugly
the ugly are getting beautiful

here's to all the anyone's who felt an instance
of feeling not good enough
and who fed it
like a pet
that became bigger and bigger
in secret.

i sat beheld in the light of a doubly dying sun
looking for something that cannot be seen
while the masses cover the hillside
hushed in noise + jabber
waiting
a little wine a little dope
usher in the
stillborn moment.

then all go home
to wait some more.
waiting to be better
and working oh so hard at it.

when man wakes up
ill say "look at me".
it takes this one look
this one spell to
break the masks
that hide our scrambling selves.

the chaos of a youthful fridge (its too many items packed in)
of almost two glasses of red wine
the pleasure of reading foucault
of the album that mentions your town (everyone is into it)
of sneaky cigs, sneaky spliffs
the kindness of giving each other timelines
the intimacy of casually influencing each other
this we nuzzle in
swim in
dance lazy hip circles in
accuse each other of being deliberately obtuse in
agree to disagree in
substance
lapping at the edges of grounding
accepting gravity
and in so doing
forgive it

you press your lips to my eye
pretending to be drunk
and our light, ever so light carefulness with each other
blooms suddenly
and we recall that we love each other
without speaking it
"I feel so damn slutty"
"I love your art"
"I woke up with a spill of my own blood between my legs"
in the quiet
we have no need to be cruel
and remake our family
until our parents are forgotten
and cousin means something so new
supes amazing
supes perf
perf perf
c u soon

your views on religion are somehow invalidated as a man who hates nonsense and dancing

Jklerh achel udwer ehadh
Lerh azaman iglaerh
Lerh azaman iglaerh
Tigila mela tigilat har takanarh am nounou
Anizdjoum djerh atat diktoh ihal falas oulhin
Kay ebedhoun de amarhanak erhik tarhet
Warhak dakhim sel inizdjam ed tid tekted
Jklerh achel udwer ehadh
Lerh azaman iglaerh

not that we need to know what it means

get under the covers, speak gibberish to me

portland

what the hell am i doing here?

the world gets stranger+ stranger in smaller little pieces that orbit the sun too

the softness of the bed gave me night terrors
in the bedroom below ground with no windows
how human to be folded in a city of books and seas of dust.

winter edges a bit closer every day
yet there's no telling which is winter and which is not
since it is all grey.
the house is bent and comfortable but if you trip
you rot
because here water has its way.
no matter how i fought
the mystery went away
i crushed the mirror and tried to eat it

the air we tore asunder in
eyeless argument and
empty thunder
was me holding back
i meant to say
i never cared +
you're too scared
i saw it in the beginning of the end.

find something to say with what you have
not what you dont.
and on the instance of happiness
drink a little wine but kiss
that moment goodbye
as it takes losing something
to even begin believing in it.