rarely remember

yes, yes, i haven't forgotten.
no, no, i'll still be there.
be there, only once.
be there, again and at last.
ever so slowly, i suppose.
but i have a home,
i have a back home,
and a ring hidden in
a box of memories.
hidden but never forgotten.
no, no, never that.
"life isn't about forgetting,
it's about remembering.
yes, yes, life isn't about remembering,
it's about forgetting."
as he told me once,
on the ground,
overlooking the city.
we were laying in the dirt
and i didn't want to kiss you.
but you kissed me anyway.
i didn't want it,
but you did it anyway.
and i can't say i've forgotten,
but i rarely remember.
and i can't say i regret,
but rarely.

yes, her

her heart out of boxes,
seems unpacked and yet
taped in folds
across your own chest.
binding the sticky between us.
i feel her in me
and knowing
her hurts me
her husband
her child
wanting them for your own.
hidden,
but known.

into dust

i'm hunting, hunting, hunting
wing swept mountaintop
perched upon jagged rock
grounded by stone
pounded below
ground into dust
hairpin bend
mouth in hand
hollow seeming
hurt seeming
hung and
hard and
heavy between my legs.