mexican beaches that carry our steps. Our steps!
Radiator
Water collides into water
just like my thoughts merge into you.
nonexistent silence
a radiator
and the sea.
a glass window (pain)
a never ending transparent (pane)
before me.
morning darkness
morning sadness
morning
mourning
the memory of you.
this is when I feel the loneliest.
Who can I even tell? Who will see my neon fall?
Who will fail to fall?
You or the thought?
the thought.
I miss your presence. Seems when we deny it we
only multiply your lasting omnipresence.
So many things to tell you.
So many tears locked up. Fed up, shot down,
shut down, digested, infested, molested my
something, someone.
Someone, freaking someone.
Six in the morning. Sex in the morning.
Six in the mourning and sex in the mourning.
Maybe not the last one.
Feeling empty. And lost and lonely and emotional
and wrecked. Navigationally wrecked.
Thinking about the do’s, the don’ts, the stupid,
stupid people. The stupid, stupid me.
Thinking about you but flirting with shoeboxes
that walk with their wings.
Cardboard.
like my mouth. My Mouth. Empty of kisses, and
good luck wishes and mountains and prairies and
Our feelings. Did we leave them somewhere for a
fish to swallow? Did we wallow in waters that
wallow in fear?
Fear did we get? Got? Not?
Ay, como I miss the times. The Presence.
the feelings that you care, that you wear my
heart on your white-white forehead.
why did I even notice you? was it written
somewhere in a manual I follow and I don’t even
know?
There’s a light in the sea.
That could be me.
Swimming in the middle of your empty being.
You’re empty, sometimes, you know?
You know. You pretend. You tend and pretend.
You forget and wake up then wake up and forget.
You forget of a love I adore, of a love I treasure,
of a love I measure with pleasure.
Yeah, sure.
Can you love me?
Or else..just please let me go.
You still text me.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Then you tell me you don’t love me.
You go ‘Yeah. I think I love the idea of us, but
you’re kind of disappearing to me’?
Fuck.
Radiator noise.
You ass.
Paulina Meza
October 17th, 2010