dreams are good,


that’s where I’ll be …

we can talk awhile,

the hive is wild.

dreams are good,


dying helps us

realize our strength

in numbers, is our community.

Scraps and patches,

heart, wind. desire.

Endless friends are best, so,

try this.


Teach me to love.

Teach me to love –

tell me to burn

off my skin

and just be characters


inside a flow,

lust habits set aside, still warm.

Down the river with you

help me be strong again.

I was once full and whole


a portrait, of me


which might make you scream, recoil

or stay,

climb inside of truth to


another day.

Nightmares come

estranged from light

every night, again

a different facet of fear.

In them one of us

is wearing red pants

me, then you,

the contents of my purse


Me sitting in

the corner silent.

You and Michael yelling in an asylum with

dirty water on the floors. I see no reason

for you to stay with me in this.

I have lived on this earth longer

than the tooth fairy, collecting teeth

of little children,

encircling families in these arms. But

still, the tears i’ve cried could fill a sea,

when all I’ve ever wanted was

someone to walk with me.