11.21.17

Confession: I have sat upon a rock

crosslegged with my eyes closed

thinking.

In opposition: waves that bash

themselves into rocks in the ceaseless

rhythm of broken men whose lovers

have abandoned them

drive their foreheads into walls,

patterns of the insane.

Lesson: say not what you mean but

what you intend to make happen.

Example: don’t say, I love you, or I hate

you.

Say: I would not mind pressing myself into you until there is nothing left of me but for what you reject from your own body.

Say: Sometimes I dream you are a gopher, and I attempt to hammer your peeking head like a circus game.

Written at 1:01 at night, in Hawaii.