Is it any wonder, Sarah?

Nashville had that breath of the wider world for her
it felt like Home
enough like her dreams
to be miserable but feel grounded

at Home
finally
and revealed
before others comfortable even though she felt liquid like

that picture of her
heels
snow
large bottle of Vodka

it enticed and served to warn me
as did her heroic
tragic
lovely dirty white dress

her permanent Alabama pout
beneath her heavy eyelids
that told you she liked to kiss
and kiss

she fled one weekend
like she was me
suddenly in love with someone never mentioned
away she went

had a baby back home
living with her sister
convinced
love was her salvation

the grand forgiveness
the final hurdle
the way Home
the forever sunset

suddenly back and wanting to visit
declaring love and wonder
distrustful still
she made me wonder

"clear as a bell and sound
as an old engineer"

the small figure
bore no trumpets

his fingers silently
pause above her shoulders



she has a beauty
that comes as a warning

the tips of his thumbs
press into her shoulders

her neck is white and warm

her neck is curved like a storm

Derp, as a heartbeat

wood-toned heartbeat
deep but frantic

played on a tender
heartbeat fabric.

skitter thoughts
think of you

somehow calm
while eye

shift
manic

 

like piano parts
tumbling

in keys with shuffling feet
tapping out love songs

all
night
long.

Written automatic

she shakes my hand
nervous eyes
mouths
awesome

the guy in the striped suit
spends ten minutes ignoring me
then the next ten
asking advice
he's smug
I offer
glib classic comebacks
he walks off

she sits
in his warm chair
offers cheers
her eyes seeking eyes

blushing
it's raining
and we are beneath
a slight awning

the water hits our feet

she giggles
asks my name
I offer
a joke
a dodge
then the real thing
ask hers
write it down
it baffles
baffles
offends her

drops
fall
like
silence
comfortably
between us

pin-stripe comes back outside
huffy
unhappy
cologned
miffed by the rain
he's good
for a giggle

sits down on my other side
complains about the bar's
general state

unclean
Goddamn unclean
mutter
grumble

if they want big spenders
they better spend more time on the toilet bowl
brother
I say
maybe you should spend less time
staring into holes

looking for shit

"the history of an epoch is the history of its instruments"
- Albert Einstein



she leans against me
her flushed wet flesh soft against my back
knees and fingers thrilling as words
excite

"July"

she whispers
the dream weaves texts

she makes me bold
while breathing steam

A comic appearance

why should I doubt anything you whisper to me
all of your breath on my neck seems true like kisses from relatives
like what confusing touches mean like thinking of a means to an end

shut up she says


off stage I hear violins shuffling strings heroic strokes
like lips strumming after mornings that you claim
you forgot


good night whispers and insufficient promises
she touches your face and thinks she is
lost looking at your flesh go blank

mornings of consistency fail to inspire you to kiss
girls you have never met
xoxo

simply not relevant
anymore

I see you're eager but fucking me
won't mean L-O-V-E,
silly man.



The way she bites her lip suggests
she might be up for some quixotic
questing in bed.

She curls her fingers at the base
of his neck and scratches flesh
while curling hair between fingers.

Pushing him away,
smiling.

I guess we'll see.

all photos borrowed lovingly.