poetry party in the japanese garden

This is when I don't want summer to come, this is when I want to stay outside drunk under the chicago night sky forever, laughing too loudly and sharing too much of ourselves, stumbling through darkness and new acquaintances, cementing momentary friendships and dancing to the beats we sing for ourselves...

sing along

         a song i know so well it writes itself onto the bottom of my stomach, chords sounding in time with my breath, my heartbeat, i'm so in tune with this tune i could call it my own i could sing it in my sleep. a voice rich and deep and soothing, words almost heavyhanded in their simplicity and honesty, heartbreakingly beautiful as my limbs start moving and i start swirling and tapping and nodding in time. play me a song that's ingrained in my self, i'll sing you the refrain without a thought, i'll do anything for that swell in my chest and that relief in my throat. i swallow the notes like smooth lemon drops, i bury myself in the sound as it whisks me up up and away. a song i know so well it writes itself onto the bottom of my stomach, a song to my heart.

suspended animation

tripping on insomnia, i'm
seeing reflections in the air,
colors on the walls
my face is numb
pounded by waves of would-be sleep
swallowing my words
tracing imaginary outlines
floating on the rhythm of my pulse
tasting promises of REM on my tongue
involuntary shivers and limbs
holding me down
paperweights on my sentience
eyes swirling, lights burning
let my lids drop and
calming darkness soothes
blissful unconsciousness
takes hold