pro-flowers

something that
I don’t know
the future may be
molded
I’m not
psychic
I don’t know
It will all pass
things are settling
landing gently
back to normal
all of my stuff
has returned
and is surrounding me
I wonder if the lab work
is ready
was it the flu
love,aids,
mental breakdown
breakthrough
a cleaning
a trumpet player walking
the streets of Chelsea
playing the haunted part of his song

planted

open that third eye
you can too
and you can
look out of windows
ones with trees, bare
or with soft yellow petals
and you can yell things
loud and incoherent things
but only in irrelevant moments
yell them at the birds
or the dogs
they’ll get it
the guy you liked won’t
but how
they are full
words
rat in the belly
of a snake
round
derived from a warm
spine

Dinner

To the one you love:
Here are two
forbidden nipples
Woman balance
After work,
I cooked a pound
of mussels
in butter and broth
I paired it with
a glass of wine
and crusty bread
tangerines decorated
the plate, past
balancing trash
with elegance
it’s me vs this social media
toxicity
I try to suffocate

anything
the mussels, the sea
something raw
like poetry or honey
will cure me

too soon?

take any
more
more
of whatever is left
if you want
I’m seeking a sort of
privacy
Within

the search for the vitamins
that I put in my bra
It’s my newfound defensive
character
and the yearn
for any faint smell of
warm spring dirt

catch up to me
by the lake
or watch the butterfly
try to escape
through the netting

It’s still orange and
existing, we’ve
all been desperate

chest in drk blue

there have been
a few things
stepping stones
an island and a diamond
I think it’s time to
become a monk
or maybe
I know that something
but i’m here
in this mental breakdown
crossroad place
because of a date rape
drug
sleepy
in and out
of consciousness
I had thought it was something
mystical
round and full
I now walk around
with a decapitated head
souvenir