i crave it and i
vehemently hate it

i want to crush it
make it nice and
compact and stuff
it like a wad of
pulp and let it
dry up and crumble
and turn to dust
and fade into the

i don’t want it to
burst forth, loud
and brilliant. maybe
i am not capable of
loud brilliance right

i feel empty, just as
i try too hard to be.
i feel empty and i feel
intensity bubbling,
one section and one corner
and one pot and one vat.
it’s froth.
bubbles and bubbles over
and immediately disappears.

she’s engaged
he’s interested
he’s passionate
she’s far away
she’s coming

lots and lots
and yet
none at all.


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