Monday
truly never so worklocked that in my wake lay more scratched redacts than poetry, but there it is and here this is and I'm not sure the it will count but it's the best I can do at 2am and 2am's the best I can do at honesty and, honestly, I don't know how not to say all of this so I try not to say very much at all-
Wednesday
Saturday
Thursday
I am wrapped in my childhood comforter,
and it is enough around me to keep off cold through cracks a century coming, a century like chimes pealing, peeling off, years falling away like leaves dropped and it’s still clingy autumn here:
but I’m building walls of books, too,
because in my bed they help to keep of the cold and for all its warmth Dixie sure has biting nights that even three years north of the Mason-Dixon have not yet taught me to love, and the books are enough, enough enough:
but I’m wooling my mind with words,
tangled like click, click, click I never learned to knit properly so I really should put these needles aside and just crochet, but it’s diverting to knot phrases in unfamiliar ways and everything here is so familiar that it’s a comfort, really, so I need these words to unwind me:
but walking these roads I feel at home,
in place, in peace, embraced, and sure as ever that my autumns will drop on red clay like it doesn’t matter how fertile the soil is I’ll grow here, dammit, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be no other words I’d rather weave no, no nothing else I’d rather read no, no no way else I’d rather sleep:
but these are not my thoughts,
my thoughts are very different.
and it is enough around me to keep off cold through cracks a century coming, a century like chimes pealing, peeling off, years falling away like leaves dropped and it’s still clingy autumn here:
but I’m building walls of books, too,
because in my bed they help to keep of the cold and for all its warmth Dixie sure has biting nights that even three years north of the Mason-Dixon have not yet taught me to love, and the books are enough, enough enough:
but I’m wooling my mind with words,
tangled like click, click, click I never learned to knit properly so I really should put these needles aside and just crochet, but it’s diverting to knot phrases in unfamiliar ways and everything here is so familiar that it’s a comfort, really, so I need these words to unwind me:
but walking these roads I feel at home,
in place, in peace, embraced, and sure as ever that my autumns will drop on red clay like it doesn’t matter how fertile the soil is I’ll grow here, dammit, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be no other words I’d rather weave no, no nothing else I’d rather read no, no no way else I’d rather sleep:
but these are not my thoughts,
my thoughts are very different.
Saturday
Friday
I don't think I
"And I know, and you know too
that what this is is bad, bad news."
---She and Him, more or less
...but...
...but...
...but...
What I don't do do want don't dare wonder do, do, do wonder don't do do think do think do think don't think daren't think think anyway do want don't want do want, don't want don't do daren't do do think, do think do want but don't do: your hair through my fingers and your neck on my cheek and head-spinning scent of you and I know what makes you laugh when you don't feel like laughing and you let me know when you don't feel like laughing because I can trace the weave of your speech-spinning hands and I've felt your fingertips on my palm and I've known the stretch and shrug of your shoulders and know how they hunch when you feel heavy and how to hold you to help shoulder the weight and you share my weight and everything's lighter when we're together, even the serious things, so sometimes we get mixed up and take the silly things seriously and the the serious things sillily and sometimes we're simply silent and stare into one another and this used to terrify me about you because I have walls for everyone but you- everyone but you, but I never had walls for you because something there is that doesn't love a wall that's for you so I'm for you and you are the spring and the mischief in me and when we meet to walk the line it isn't to heave stones or even sighs because there's nothing between us but what we want there and what we want there is shared and what we do is like like two-wise pastries and identical disinterests and word trades which sound nonsensical because we have eyes and minds in common enough to not need breathe long explanations of being so it's so easy to be honest and this used to terrify me, too, but when walking side-by-side feels more intimate than any love I've made then how could I not...
And it would be easier if you were a stranger or I could forget all your sweet smiles, all the time passing, the peace, the heat, the pain, and all those long nights where our words were our freedom, but I can't unknow don't want to unknow don't do do want dare wonder do, do, do wonder don't do do think do think do think daren't do do want do want, don't want to not do daren't do do think, do think do want but don't do.
that what this is is bad, bad news."
---She and Him, more or less
...but...
...but...
...but...
What I don't do do want don't dare wonder do, do, do wonder don't do do think do think do think don't think daren't think think anyway do want don't want do want, don't want don't do daren't do do think, do think do want but don't do: your hair through my fingers and your neck on my cheek and head-spinning scent of you and I know what makes you laugh when you don't feel like laughing and you let me know when you don't feel like laughing because I can trace the weave of your speech-spinning hands and I've felt your fingertips on my palm and I've known the stretch and shrug of your shoulders and know how they hunch when you feel heavy and how to hold you to help shoulder the weight and you share my weight and everything's lighter when we're together, even the serious things, so sometimes we get mixed up and take the silly things seriously and the the serious things sillily and sometimes we're simply silent and stare into one another and this used to terrify me about you because I have walls for everyone but you- everyone but you, but I never had walls for you because something there is that doesn't love a wall that's for you so I'm for you and you are the spring and the mischief in me and when we meet to walk the line it isn't to heave stones or even sighs because there's nothing between us but what we want there and what we want there is shared and what we do is like like two-wise pastries and identical disinterests and word trades which sound nonsensical because we have eyes and minds in common enough to not need breathe long explanations of being so it's so easy to be honest and this used to terrify me, too, but when walking side-by-side feels more intimate than any love I've made then how could I not...
And it would be easier if you were a stranger or I could forget all your sweet smiles, all the time passing, the peace, the heat, the pain, and all those long nights where our words were our freedom, but I can't unknow don't want to unknow don't do do want dare wonder do, do, do wonder don't do do think do think do think daren't do do want do want, don't want to not do daren't do do think, do think do want but don't do.
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