the cost of life is pain

the pain of love is gain

the gain of loss gets lost,

included in the cost.

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Guilt Seeking

Memories were
Now they are

All the while
All lost 

Arc between
Pairs of

Cut up and

Not caught

Voyaging out



In the corner
On the sill
Under the blanket
At my feet
It's not there
In my right pupil
In my left
In the mirror
In the night
In the crowd
In the rain
In the flower bed
By the entrance
To the park
By the horses
By the trash can
In the pile of leaves
Among the rocks
Among the ash
Beside your after image
Within the looping nightmare
Beyond the void
Within our hearts
Nowhere can we find it


having fun

decomposing ridden with a hundred thousand cuts is pleasure
donning regal silver death fantasy is play
wielding the abyssal power of midnight imagination is easy
pain is a child's toy
and time flies


i miss you

but not enough of you

what you were

is now formlessness

the healing process

can feel like erasure

pain is holding on

grasping at memory

with broken fists

dumb and mute

is loving

the now gone
love on its way to you
got bent like light thru glass
caught on doubt mid-air
some mild indifference
enough to warp affection
refracted lengthwise
then diluted
see it bilocate
into rainbow
here it lands
there it hangs
arched among us
anchorless already
glimmering away


river doesn't meditate
on the pain of its emptying
or the majesty of its source

its running is meditation
its changing is ceremony
stillness is next to godlessness

to the fawn in the brush
the entrails of the doe
spilled upon the frozen garden
symbolize nothing.
in the story of the fawn
there is no story.