In His Womb


In His Womb - You can't downsize your close up. -


the week rolled out
and I
grew silent
& deep
& black
as sky so pregnant with storm
my womb’s about to hatch

I will pass you
fast as lightning

You will hear
of me

I will pour down
dot to period
this chapter.

.(your photographs
in giftwrap
you’ll remember the way I saw you)
no one else’s

- C

is your place in Heaven worth giving up these kisses?

(Source: in-his-womb)

nobody loses anyone.
It’s your piece that could have been in my flesh & mine that could be in yours. It’s the space we carved in ourselves for the flesh we were willing to give - and receive - , that aches. The piece of ourselves that can’t be reattached & the space you won’t fill.It’s not you that I miss.- C

nobody loses anyone.

It’s your piece that could have been in my flesh & mine that could be in yours. It’s the space we carved in ourselves for the flesh we were willing to give - and receive - , that aches. The piece of ourselves that can’t be reattached & the space you won’t fill.

It’s not you that I miss.

- C


Forenight Swirling

my bare hands won’t do
skin once peeled back to burn
now stiff
as I, softened to lack of locks
at the door of The Velvet Room.
I’ll embalm this chest
in the goo of my decomposing beliefs
rub these eyes
open to the things I used to see
I’ll swallow your name
and once
and again
and again
numb my tongue to your taste
spit on my palms the waste
coat them wise
to carry the weight
of standing by the choices made.
you are green
but I’ve danced with fate.

- C

Goodbye, White Horses.


(Sunsetter, part II)

I did not count on that. You called. So we met. And you said the things you usually say to fill the breaches through which we could fall into talking about these 2 months of sunset together and what that makes of us. But you knew we could no longer go on as if it was just casual. I’m not casual, and you know it. That’s why I stayed. That’s why you stayed, too. So you tell me there’s someone else, he even met your parents, and he’s got two months worth of advantage on me, but I’m prettier. And unnexpectedly delicious. So much so, you had to break it to him that there was someone else casting a shadow on his side of the reality you shared, too. And you told him first. And maybe, were it not for me making it a point that I could well surprise you on your way to meet him, you probably wouldn’t tell me, and we would just tag along until one of us decided to part, or got in too deep that the other couldn’t follow suit. Well, that’s me at the edge of this, staring down and thinking “this will be quite a bad path to go down alone”, as I look back at you, searching for a sign of an assisted jump, feet halfway in, already. But you don’t do depths. See, I think I have a knack for sorting surfers out of divers at the shore, and then call them underwater. “I want you, but I want him, but I want you. I don’t wanna choose”. You didn’t have to. By telling me I would be 1 of 3, risky as it could be that I’d settle for war, there had always been a dash of class in everything about the way I loved you, and maybe you knew I’d keep the game clean. I could unapologetically push you down the cliff dug out with the shovels of your (ir)responsibility…But I had my heart set the moment I felt you pulling me out of red. You touched my face. I caressed you hair. You tried the linger for a last burning kiss. But I had already burned up all the gifts once held for you in my hands. You looked sad. I didn’t look back.

- C


The Dance - Charlotte Martin (acoustic)

the name of the game is outrunning the blame 
so i hate you and love you we’re friends
guess we’ll be friends

tell me lies. I won’t justify them.

the amateurish jump of gun

how dirty a scumbag
you’ve come out of your pristinity
when you decided
I was naive enough to be fooled
poorly architected lies
so carelessly assembled
so much of you
so little
you are
fully dissected
in my broadly detailed view.
you’re now blocking
the beauty of this landscape.
anyway, I will.

- C

Out Of The Red

The last beat a heart gives before breaking is a magical turning point. All numbness is reversed, all hurt is forgiven. It beats like a bomb bursts, like the earth quakes. It is thunder & lightning, the last sight of Paradise.

I’ve held my tongue back from unfurling binding words and loosened my lines to better contain these indefinite colors that formed in the twilight hours we’ve been sharing since January, between work & class. I’ve sung my flames taming spells so not to burn out the chances of you challenging default enchantment duration. I folded smaller to give you room, then I disappeared unseeable into a corner. Plain & pale & uncontrasted against floor & walls.

I didn’t like the line of your jaw at first. I saw problems with the way your teeth aligned, and wanted to resume your toewound as indication of poor health. I saw dirt under your nails, I saw every smallest detail that could be translated into a flaw, and translate them I did. I almost had an inventory of reasons not to let my want for you reveal itself reasonable. But you let me run my fingers through that field of golden, once, and again, and once more, and each time deeper & further in that, in time, I no longer knew exactly where I was. As I gave you room, you stood taller than your 6ft.. Suddenly, your jaw seemed so beautiful. You smiled just right. That was the last sight of Paradise.

My lines were now racing not to accommodate, but to enrapture you, and the only thing loose was your heart. I don’t know what went wrong, or where. For had my arms gripped any tighter, you’d have slipped. And had I left you any looser, you would drift. Now you sit beside me and let me touch your neck, but it won’t turn so that you’ll face me straight. So I resort to silent composure dressed as Respect, while my intuitions chew up the insides of my ever narrower throat, until the base of my tongue crumbles and out of these sweet lips that have only ever longed for kisses, sharp as ice, are fired out the words that could make all bridges burn,

- Are you still in it?

You’re no fool, so you had the answer warmly packed ready at the back of your mouth. “Yes”. You also said you just needed to sort a couple things out first, as if we were depending on calendars & clocks. But we both know what hang ups are holding your heart elsewhere. You wanted to make sure I felt safe. We were at the gates of your territory after all, and for all the silent humming you could feel whirlpooling underneath the paleness on my cheeks as you said such words, you probably feared a scene. But, you see, we know you lied…before meeting me this afternoon, you bought a mug which read “Should I marry or buy a mug?”. You bought the mug. You bought the mug.

That was the last sight of Paradise.

- C

this is where

* written on April 3rd, 2010.

swirling through the clouds
bursting into sound
falling into me
breaking silver linings
redesigning miles
bringing down the tiles
unfolding unsent letters
reading them out loud

breathing through the mouth
seeing through the feet
coordinating rhythms
conflicting within

opening the doors
stringing on the ropes
drawing out the lines
fanning out the smoke

closing the circle
closing the cycle
closing the circus
restarting in 1, 2, 3…

- C