stella was a diver and she was always down

sex and syntax

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photos by Aaron Feaver

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elizabeth had much rather not/ fill your mouth with/ on your skin like little bruises/ oh no now our love turns sour/ you come at the right time/ you come too fast/ you were a fever/ darcy draped in lace/ what she puts in my head/ what i put in her mouth/ i'll still be up by four/ say you'll do me my way/ you were a kindness/ not too rough touching touching/ pull you in close/the braids that you came in tonight/ fix me up in the bedroom we'll go a long way/

love is coming coming coming/ coming coming coming our way.

thursday

brief lovers make quick beds

so

paint me in mahogany

show me where fingers have strayed

your fingers trace blood red

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the only way to love. is to love with abandon.

all my great designs

i        am my       beloved's       and my beloved          is mine , he grazes         among the      lilies       .

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Words have a wonderfully restrictive nature.

People.

The word is recognized and an image begins to form: You're in a strange dream, walking through the streets of some strange city you can't remember the name of. You're walking because, well, cars aren't allowed into this city. You can drive to a certain point but you have to stop there and continue your journey on foot. You're walking through a crowd of people, their faces as foreign to you as yours is to them. You walk into the center of the city. You stand up straight at the foot of your love and lift your shirt up. You wake up. The dream is good.

Person.

The word is recognized and an image begins to form: You're in a strange dream, walking through the streets of some strange city you can't remember the name of. You're walking because, well, cars aren't allowed into this city. You can drive to a certain point but you have to stop there and continue your journey on foot. You're walking through a crowd of people, their faces as foreign to you as yours is to them. Amidst this convergence of faces and sounds and lights and scattered thoughts everywhere something stands out. You can only afford this person a fleeting second glance before the crowd comes between the both of you, swallowing any real connection you feel you had. You wander about this city with no name, what was once beautiful and mysterious has turned on its side, the streets are dark and unfamiliar, every lost step you take fills you with dread. You walk into the center of the city. But that one person is nowhere in sight. Nothing is replaced. Everything else, even in its scale and grandeur, seems less. You stand up straight but your love is nowhere in sight. Do you remember? The snow started falling and we were stuck out in your car rubbing both your hands and ain't this just like the present to be showing up like this. You wake up. The dream is bad. The images linger for awhile before they're stored in that place in your brain meant for forgotten dreams and difficult lovers.

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there                  is a       suggestion at       trauma          . for i am            broken     . i am        not        w                                             h                                                            o                   l                                                                            e               .