The Baby’s Blurry

There was a hole here, once, but it’s gone now,
Papered over
But it was empty once……………and I envy that.


The waterfall was lizarding, all froth and rage and mist
Upon our face as we spoke stories of deep blue enthusiasm
Trees, wicker, sweat, kisses and drums

I wanted to tell you something else

Anything really

That wasn’t a sliver of the past
That wasn’t an echo of horror
I could feel you there,  every inch of you
I wanted to smoke poetry, blow into your face and see your smile

Your eyes

I wanted to list each and every step I’d take to get back to you
The way I did when I first lost you
The way I did when I carved your name into trees so you knew which way home was
The way I did when I died and used the coins on my eyes as bus fare to come back to earth so I could keep looking for you.

Truth is I’ve loved you the same way I learned to skate;
Scared. Reckless. Wild.
My body a tumblework of scars to show you every place I’ve fell for you

Truth is I don’t know what to say
Truth is, I’d lay down every line to build you your home
Truth is, I think we could save lives if we don’t spend them


I would write about you even if we’d never met

Truth is, I always have.

But the paint on the walls is thinning and skinned
The dog is out back with the foxes, barking at the moon
The lines sometimes get blurred between the real and the fake
I don’t want this night to end, you told me.

When it’s noon, and it’s late, and all the roads go to the same place we
Call it Fate and tell ourselves that we were meant to take the journey,
The things we think of when we think it might save us.

Emptiness. The only real freedom in a fallen world.

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