but you knowHe sits down next to you in the bus and your life is
You are looking away but
you can see his reflection in the window -
it deconstructs itself,
a freckle under his right eye,
and the flecks of silver in his irises.
And then he looks out the window too and
he can't be looking at you, he can't he can't,
but the light plays tricks - it always does -
the reflection of his pupils shoots like a laser right into
he's humming your favourite song.
the change, the space you didn't know existed:
it's a thousand questions
a million details
He reaches across you to press the button to make the bus stop -
for him to be able to stop a bus with one finger, isn't that amazing? -
and as he draws back he brushes your hair with his sleeve
just his sleeve
and his hand draws your eyes to him like an invisible string.
And he smiles at you and says,
In an instant you realize you will never know
whether he hates airplane rides or
And Now I Can Lie to YouYou told me you liked butterflies
but the ones in my stomach flutter up my throat
every time I try to say I like them too.
So I caught the last butterfly as it flew out of my mouth
and stabbed it through the heart with a pin
and tacked it to a board
and as you watched it twitch and die
you told me you didn't like butterflies anymore.
If You Cannot Hear Me SpeakI hold the telephone against my ear
pressing it closer
waiting to hear your whisper
but you do not love me.
If you cannot hear me speak
then I will write to you.
But you will have to let go of my hands
as I clutch the pencil with shaking fingers
and bring it to the paper
and I can't write the words
because they are not true.
As my writing falters and fails
I'll drop my pencil, so listen to my hands.
They roam across your skin leaving trails of
your fingers leave trails of
When my wrists are bound
heed my lips and tongue
as I greedily absorb all that is
you and your taste
since you won't give me your heart.