It's true
I romanticize about the times I could've died
As an aborted
As a premie
Intentionally from the age of eleven
Recently just
Would you miss me?
Places I would've blown to
People I would've died for
Once, I hit my head so hard
I got scared
Once, I forgot who I was
And imagined the worst
Sometimes I know I am alive
Only through the reminder
Of more pain to endure
Worth is subjective, irrelevant
To the hopelessness and fear
Of a sole alone
Would it be better to have been here
And ignored
Then to have never been at all?
I don't know.
I don't know.

Ayin

Ein sof.

Binah, binah, binah, binah.

Before the beginning-
there was a thought
... Of never ending
a stone in a pond
rippling
endlessly
I wasn't there to see
but atoms in my soul
are the dusty footprints
whispering 

it happened

The 70s

70s and I'm seeing my parents
deep in the mistakes that would eventually
define them
children of the night 

skin innocent and fragile
eyes lonely and together 

70s and I'm seeing my parents
deep in the love that would
Eventually
desert them
surrounded by the fear that only youth
never see
and the hope that only the sages
regret

Voyageur

atteindre le bord du voile
il est toujours le matin à l'arrivée
Oui aujourd'hui! yeux louchent
désespérée de prendre tout cela en
lourd avec merveilleuse; graisse sans attentes
il y a toujours les collines, les arbres
une rivière ou un lac insaisissable
accentués étapes pas destinés à être compris
seulement entendu, esquivé
un espace tranquille pour sentir la chute de jour de congé
there is never time to finish
night hurries in everywhere
a shift in the air unwelcome
No, this is not where I can stay.

To Create a Child

Perhaps there is no right or wrong
There only is

Though when it comes to the boy-

We both know he deserved better.
He was planned by three
And likely loved by three
But 6 months later,
my belly rising like the sun,

I stood alone.
Perhaps there is no right or wrong

We both know he deserved more from you

And I don't have enough forgiveness in me
For the both of us.
Besides, he and I have made do

I am his, he is mine
My plan to grow him
was a fish hook pulling my bellybutton open
And out climbed a cherub
Conceived by demons.

But I was reborn with him

I knelt and absolved and grew flowers from my fingertips

Roots from toenails
I sprouted and shriveled and sprouted again

Along with him.
Tonight he is twelve
Tonight I am sure there is purpose in life
That consciousness is meaning

He brought that gift with him
I have stepped onto a midnight beach
Staring at the sandy sky
& felt an alone too big for one
Eternity is there as well as here
It is a fish-hook pulling a bellybutton to open