a bland reminder

I guess I just always wanted you to be mad at me.

to cause some trouble, ruffle your feathers:

take something that wasn't mine,

toy with it, make you chase it;

for you to think of me, endlessly and into the night,

where unconsciousness felt like cheating

if only you could show me that anger

in your blood shot eyes

I think I would crumble to my knees if I ever felt powerful enough

to grab your attention

all your violence

and have it clustered up on me

I want to be part of something greater

a plot that hasn't been written, yet

my position is acquainted only

maybe a brush on the arm or

a friendly handshake

a bland reminder that I was never meant

to take the fantasy with me

naples, 1997

there's a single string,

just one, you can hang yourself there and

just slide

maybe there's a reason for it being just one,

i don't know where it goes, I haven't asked,

sometimes people come tumbling down

and they zoom by me,

like a balcony,

like a showcase,

a conveyor belt carrying soul samples

there's one string,

there's only ever been one

it goes back way before you and me were ever born,

don't be afraid

a wish

a life that feels like a secret

is the most austere thing i could wish for:

the unspoken holds, on the tip of our tongues,

the realization that the mystery is ours only,

and might trascend words and sunrises;

it'll come with us in our sleep,

fill up pages of the diary—

a life that takes up so much space

that no one else can live it for us.

a checklist

so tell me what would make you feel more alive:

a plunge deep into the early morning sea water,

a geniune cackle from someone you love, 

running up a hill,

a sunset?