the walking fish

walking fish.

you set sail

you jet wail

out of the bowl

and into the male

blue eyes and red scales

caught in my net

can't swim but still wet

you feel for the sky

and i'm all that you get

curled like a c

crescent of sweat

you flip onto me

sweet silhouette.

cupping my breath

caught in the glow

your tale is a map

not even you know

charting my moons

dropping your scales

you shower the dunes 

salt crystals to swallow

swept by your gales 

your name is apollo.

kitemaker

he was the longest to linger

when helium racers ran from untied fingers

mesmerized, his eyes carmelized

a secret twin running through the air

2 P.M. on a swooning afternoon

2 nightengales traded for a rusty spoon

sun pressed against a flag undressed

her shadows squealing on the sidewalk

when he slept he came alive

down gingerbread chimneys his soul did dive

combing for honey in street lamps

unclamps the hive, ghosts float in the glass

his brain a spool of film rewinding

visions of blouse sleeves living and dying

teetering on a fishing line of prayer

not there 

not there

not there 

it's the only time he can hear.

when spoken to, his hand is held

his half yearns to flee, the impulse quelled

his eyes, flickering neon signs, yell

not here

not here

not here

the pointer

His lines break our stilts

This blackened stork is balanced

With a single digit he divides a room

A corner around which we crane our necks

To catch a glimpse of this daring divider

We are caramelized with wonder

Charred man of dripping straw

Lingering inside certainty

As we hover in hoards

He tells curious entropic particles

"Keep traveling"

In a scale and language

That matches our own

First a net

Next an anchor

Now a compass

His index

Whittles the space

Reducing the roar of

Combatant mortality.

it's not rejection if it makes you feel great

thank you

for unhinging

unlatching

for a second–

detaching.

you pause my stutter

leaving behind

the warmth of my legs

your honesty

kisses my forehead.

i crane my neck 

in a room with no corners

where have you gone?