14/100

Ethnocentrically speaking of course

You’re just not there

Not emotionally. You lack that

As girlfriend and lover and girl again

Come to me asking the same question about you:

“Is that it?”

“I thought there was more than that…”

 I thought it was just a façade, not the main event

truth is stranger for you

truth, is stranger to you.

The cost of water in your land

Keeps your terrain in check

In the way that I can box you in with your own pawns

The little fractions that hold water  

I am not cactus, I am not succulent

I am the range of epiphytes  

as vast in this world as any other

And walk without rhythm through the sands

That only time seems to remember

push forth through your sandstorm

don’t forget to carry water

truth is; I didn’t always enjoy the rain,

but I never take the time to appreciate anything without it  

Dancing Alone

In my room

this techy-dub-house

 2 and 2

dream of  raptors

 wings, talons, whatever

skulk in this place

for some exchange

anything like,

 a fire uninfluenced
in copious fuel

and fantasize about overpowering limbs

as though the need to ever have to;

 thinking how hard something can catch my trigger

And detonate

So-deep-inside-you

like a scream through dimension

Because not every-fucking-waking-second was a long moment that dragged
winding the road to the highest branch
woven within these white rooms
something beautiful can be found 

destroy ourselves to become immortal 

Not that a name is any representation 

All that matters is ephemeral

Let nothing be left undone