huemer

What tastes of coal
leaves my lips so dry
coarse across my brain stem
black as a soul.

tssk

this idea
this shard of glass
lodged in the stems of my mind
tastes like fire
it's a spinning record.
caramel.

Night swimming

Oh what a painting!
in your eyes, dear,
I'm drowning.

Breakfast

A powerful pull
sticky sweet syrup
dripping from a bottle cap
was a reminder
of when you were here

Me lembro?

Você não será a minha
eu não serei perfeito
mas nos amaremos, né?
O que é amor se não é isto?

dreams?

what dreams we have known
when you and I were asleep
together when not

Je ne peux pas parler français

en passant
t'entends
sans bruit