4 Apr
your hair
dapple pressed on the
desk
spills on me
every lover loves the Song
-your tender finger could
be wrong
you remember the words
your clipped lips,
suck puffing out a
grey breath
a nod, a wink
your eyes, like a cat
the mouth fondles the
cigarette
tickled tip
your lamplight lingerie
falls stark awkward
over curled commas
i found the song
your voice tinsel
in the air
forgot the lyrics
14 Jun
(NOTE: The following story was told by my half sister, I’ve simply interpreted what she said – via my step mother – the scribe.)
*The Crystal of Love*
By Trinity Ballam-Smith
Chapter 1
One day there was a jungle girl named Ellie. She lived in an island named Hawaii. She was sooo happy there. One day (while trying to find some grapes) she spotted an elephant. She didn’t know that she could speak to animals. But when the elephan tried talking to her…Ellie listened.
They were very confused because they didn’t know they were sisters. They went to the elephant Cloud Princess and she said,
“Do you know that you two are actually sisters?” and she was amazed that the elephant princess had old her story.
She replied, “”Did you know, a long time ago King Rothbart turned me into an elephant because he was so angry. I didn’t let Rothbart go, so he strangled me and he took all my powers away. I only have one power left, and Rothbart doesn’t like me any more. he put me into a dungeon, but luckily I broke through.”
She paused momentarily, and continued.
“Rothbart takes all my powers away, and doesn’t gove me anything. So I moved into the Cloud Kingdom, and I needed to live all by my own.But luckily I had some animals to speak to me.”
Rothbart came every single day to check on the Cloud Princess, but eventually she fought back to get more powers. The world changed and all the trees were dark around her…and there was no pollution in the air. the Cloud Princess and stopped all the pollution.
Ellie (the Cloud Princess) said, “Bye-bye” to the Cloud Elephant, and ran off to find the Crystal of Love. She told them about a wand, and a ring of love, lying in the dark depths of despair. To find the Crystal of Love, Kindness, and Helpfulness you must go there.
“Remember,” she said.
“The Crystal of Love, is the more important than all the kindness in the world!”
28 Sep
It is five o’clock, and I can hear your feet. They are crawling through nonsense, hiding behind the flecks of the morning’s eyelash. The coffee crumbles into the cup. The sugar stings my ears. I still feel your breath on the bed; it lies there massaged into my veins. I watch you, through my eyes’ crescent moons.
Your hand falls like a flower. The other stirs the table and skates through its memory. The milk-thin steam finds room in your face, your smile vigilant through the film. I watch you float on the nothing, I watch your hair. I want to fondle the piece on your nose (curled like a finger). You want nothing as the membrane light folds and unfolds. It breathes with your breath and flickers in your eyes.
You told me a story once of how you lost you loam brain in the shelves and bodies of books. Now I watch you do the same. You’re lost between blank blocks of light and supple time. There’s something about the emotional silence that holds your head up like a lovers fluid hand. You stroke it, slowly, fingering it in grains. Your hanger shoulders tilt and stir up in the chair, making you stand. You swim like a cat on your feet. Your presence pours through the room.
In the shower, you left me your shapes and your shades. The breath of a heavy cloud-kiss holds me. Your hands have smudged the tiles, blurring my windscreen thoughts. You voice gallops giddy in a delicate breath, leaving behind a crisp crinkle.
The voice touches, tumbles into towel. It rubs your skin, shading in your eyes and floating figure, between the silver-silk smoke. The towel swims over your breasts, around and into the ceramic curve of your back. It stops. You reach for the door, your hands around the cold clean handle then, you sneeze. A dandelion sneeze makes the clean air now clammy with a creative spray.
The door opens, and you walk to my bed where I am still lying. The mottled light tickles me face, hugging me like a child. You pull up next to me. Your figure is fresh, the smell sails through me.
You look at me. Your gaze pours into me like wine, followed by a recumbent smile and tender fingers. A soft smile ripples through me. I trace my hand to your lap. My fingers fold your legs into me. We lie there rooted in our thick smell and thrumming tenderness.
Your leg draped over me, leaves me to linger. All I hear is your threaded whisper and an ebbing breath.
“I could do this again,” you said.
28 Sep
Close the door
Come inside and close the window
The thick sun is still asleep.
I’m left to lie on aged sheets, that
I grasp in little mounds like children.
Come inside but don’t come too close,
I have a tender place I won’t want you
To touch.
I mask it with the reflections
in the window, watching me.
As strange as birds they hover in the
Sunlight, stirring my clammy head.
Come inside and feel the carpet
with your naked foot.
Your pink toes prickle, play,
Let go of the music.
I have a tender place to touch,
It feels warm as your hand, soft
As your duvet face. I want you
To hold it like the pillow’s shoulder
You cry on
Come inside here, close the door.
Feel my creases, come under my lamplight
I’ll tuck you in close to me, where you
Can lie in the shade of my tender place
Swim in the old ripples of my heart
The long light touches
the tips of your lips
you are too supple
to touch.
