on adrian :
Showers of letters, bathing in bright iridescence of writ. The statement of intentions, worries and self frailty not hiding behind closed words. My appreciation for the fine arts is not waning, nor wanting. Thoughts pouring into my hands, claws deep into flesh.
on bill :
I dream of your hands. Licking your fingers and palms, smoothness gliding inside of me, teasing. I dream of you, with me breathing. Your hardness against my softness; your solidity immersed in my fluid. Softly, softly, rocking together. Dappled sunlight dreaming of you golden. Cannot remember you never not knowing me. Inside. Tasting your strawberry tongue, your cherry lips and your caramel words. Sighing. Love you so much. Needing. Colour flashing through my closed eyes to blind you with their resonance – quicksilver. Me, moon, transmuting your brilliance to create my own soft light, like blood. Emerald shouting beauty for me alone – halos – your eyes – ringed with gold. Drowning.
on crow :
for memories sake and that night in the bathtub where you wouldn’t look at me naked. for that day we spent laughing together and asked if we needed to kiss. for that time we spent awake until dawn and you were wanting and i gave you something else that was better. for the birds that were lost and buried in the backyard – yours and mine. ourselves, apart. for everything and the note i left you the night i stole your alcohol and left the note that changed your life. for knowing you for longer than they ever thought. for running my fingers through your hair and counting the silver. for hiding the silver with violet and standing up to me when i laughed. for being brave and asking me. for asking my blessings in the dark. for knowing your name when no-one else did. for secrets and love. for me..
on nathanial :
Where is my angel now? He had golden hair then, it glittered as he moved. I think now he’s scared of me. Not a pity. It meant so much to me and so little to him. Liar. Perfect swirl of everything. The day I baked my feet playing hacky-sack in the back alley behind the house.
on gavin :
The painting on the wall of Brett’s apartment.
I don’t actually know if it was his after all. We left him with those girls, at thier place.
There was a canoe outside, and the painting was of a cat.
Your body, on top of mine, the condom, stinging pain.
I remember how cold you felt.
My siamese, my lover.
I wish I could remember your last name
I still have the clothes I wore when I was with you, I still have the songs.
Waiting at the Denamn coffeeshop while you picked up your drugs – the tinfoil you used with it later.
“so what are you two anyhow? You aren’t in a normal sort of relationship”
“yes we are, Nova, we’re in ours”
Showing off happy: Marrisa’s lazershow birthday.
You made me feel beautiful the first time in my life.
The fashion police may not to be out to get you, but I sure am.
I am looking for you Gavin.
I am hunting.