.138

even though

you drink too much

and smoke too much

doesn't mean

i don't think too much

of you.

.137

crazy in love-

humbled by you,

your surprising linguistic prowess and

cut to-the-waist lovelocks,

i swallow hard.

swallowing hard

becomes

second nature

when the right cocktail

begins.

.136

i've looked into the eyes of beauty.

i've seen it and all that it beholds.

i liked it - no i loved it,

but i got nothing done.

now i'm faced with choices.

from which bough do i bow?

i've seen it - no i want it.

i express it- now i wait.

.135

your lips curl up & purse

like tasting sour sauce

when my name

comes up in

casual conversation.

there is something so wrong

about becoming a quitter -

another -

when everything is pure gold -

withered and survived.

.134 (loneliness)

it's not the heaviness

the outsiderness

the within you without-ness or

the bareness of witness

it's not the artificialness

it's not the darkness

it's not the shallowness or 

it's purposefulness 

not the perfectness nor

the purpleness

not the wildness 

not the wilderness

not the 'let me be freeness'

the here-ness and nowness

the 'thing must be rareness'

only my carelessness

lonely.

lonelier.

loneliest.

.133 (pt. 1 of 2)

my mind goes

a million miles a minute;

races around -

the myriad of tasks i

must attend to.

every forward jut,

every lay down and wait,

every dollar,

bumps you up in my mind;

light switching-

hair pulled back

away from your face.