1. |
cooking with kale
03:51
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your hand creaked in mine
i felt ten thousand bones become buoyant in the gulf
i could barely make their shapes, i was so cold
but you played a perfect song through the old computer speakers and
i could swim
i need someone i can make something with
then it was so bright out on the drive home
first day back from school i left my shoes at your house
i'll pick them up in the morning if you're awake
i was so fucked up i couldn't tell
am i existing too close to you?
would that i'd held clarity composed and aspartame
threw the ring from your balcony together
i could barely make your shape i was so small
but you held me in your arms as we sprawled in new directions and
i could swim
you could swim
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2. |
flag football champs
01:25
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i was wrong
to have let you lead me here
i'm so fucked
i never should have tried to surprise you
i never should have tried
shifting on your mattress
like an unfocused lens
when you go back to portland
i'll move on
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3. |
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tunnels starve for heat passing in
fireworks that split the piano cabinet,
in spitting mists of embers making embers by our feet
then, briefly removed from your arctic womb
your lips moved in shapes of reason
your lips moved in shapes of:
"clear you were never attached
only unfocused at the right angle"
and that built an ice pick haunt in my wolf brain
underwhelming birthday; I'm old again
confusing "I" with an instance of nosebleed duress
comparing love with a trending of eyes-closed sex
"clear you were never attached
only unfocused at the right angle"
and that built an ice pick haunt in my wolf brain
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4. |
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wager your anointing in the space where we left
the husks of cars to atrophy
our pupils nearly stainless
lover, I had all ends in my fists
but I clenched as you cocked your body
the grains withdrew to my wrists
your legs halved on my stomach
i could only pour my sacraments loath to your ocean
until optic nerves float like algae - aimlessly
and can I braid my tendrils through your molars?
blindly pulling roots from her engines
are we austere in our routine extractions?
i was born with a dam in my ears; i only want to speak
(i don't think i can love your open mouth)
in my aberrant hunt for abrogation
i was pregnant with impulses coming incrementally ill
i can't look at those parts of your body
i can't take our blood from the map
i can't reattach the nerves that flew right out your windshield
you moan as I offer you your zenith by my frictions
then silence as the deer takes your eyes
lover, i had all ends in my fists
but I clenched as you cocked your body
until optic nerves float like algae - aimlessly
and can I braid my tendrils through your molars?
wager your anointing in the space where we left
the husks of cars to atrophy
our pupils nearly stainless
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5. |
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i was born with a dam in my ears
vertically asleep with the river
between my eyes and nose
in my skull there is nothing but snow
smothering my wolf brain
the algae crowds my optic nerves
so lover, flow through me
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6. |
cute bangs? [full band]
02:37
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|
first signs of collapse
overshadowed by hopeful tells of progress.
as the trestles snapped you fled,
ultimately seeking shelter
in a ramshackle winepress.
and i, well i was in a sun-stained garden,
reaping with my naked palms
until my hands turned black.
when i tried to drink,
dissolve my thirst,
the tap only filled my mouth with blood.
bitter, and all my own.
when you free yourself of the weight you’ve pulled
(je ne comprends pas ce qui se passe dans mon corps)
there ceases to be any proof it exists.
what is this cruel world?
it reminds me of my own.
would that i were able to foster
the boughs from which you built a home.
but instead i laid the concrete for the
well that swallowed my advances whole.
when you free yourself of the weight you’ve pulled
(i’ve exhumed the only solace from the annals of the meek)
there ceases to be any proof.
(in proving i am neither definite, nor an artifact complete)
what is this cruel world?
it reminds me of my own.
we came unadorned, and ill equipped for success,
and it’s the same two shitty amps at every show.
i fumble for an awkward chord;
make accidental eye contact with the first row.
shaking hand slips from the fret-board,
and it’s fairly obvious the drummer
took advantage of the bar.
the question i am trying to avoid,
propounds itself between each line:
will there be any applause at the end of this song?
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7. |
tulsa, ok
01:44
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i'm still impressed you could make
everyone understand what you meant
with just your hands and twenty two
years in the bible belt
rolling trails of motion
followed us
walking on stained couches
covered with insects the size
of your father meeting his ego
chipped your tooth nine years ago
your mother's hemispheres splintered in empathy
you waited on the bloodied bottom step
midwestern universe
synapsing around my thoughts of the future
and you gave me your hand when a mountain
shot out beneath me
awkward morning entry to a silver house
but Ian's parents like you and they like me
so I think that we will be fine
and i'll let you know when i land
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8. |
okay i'm up
00:44
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|
you recall my moods but you don't remember me
a more vivid memory in canada even though you're miles away
it's not my first time away from home anymore
unsure of my next move
more calculated than I ever wanted to be
surface calm rough beyond the shore
searching for seashells in vancouver
drink more coffee than anyone you know
because I don't know how to think for myself
I like the whirlpool of thoughts the grounds stir up for me
rolling down the perfectly manicured hills of neuchatel
i am exactly as imprecise as i want to be
and i can hear you caroming off the metal slides
over by the tennis courts
and the day says okay i'm up
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9. |
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starting and not finishing
leaving bits of glass draped over our eyelids
like dust swept to the center of a lung that
i have long forgotten how to use
dry lips meet stretching ghosts to fit
our pockets on the walk from your car to the shore
there is no grace i've ignored more than the mornings
i would rush home ready with a poor excuse
i'll stop by sometime later in the week
if i can drag my cold feet to your door
theres an alpine penumbra overhead
brushing careless sentiments from the pinewood
and i could never ask just what i meant to you
because i don't deserve to be reconciled or excused
i am staring a new dent in a familiar lapse
and i can't seem to pinpoint the phrases you strung together
but i recall us feeling unmistakably uniform in a
single moment on your balcony before i spent
another month in my brightest room and you
uprooted the withering asters
and i could never ask just what they meant to you
because I don't expect to be reconciled or excused
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10. |
broodstar
03:49
|
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cleared the algae from my eyelids so you could
braid embers through our teeth
dragged my cattail legs to the shore
i've renounced atrophy and its warm smothering
(i am a map of the things that keep me awake)
spend half a year ignoring twin umbras
so we could touch without explanation
until we dissected it, drunk in the ocean
"am i valued enough for…"
(you are a trove of the things that push me forward)
in the sand i entombed my bulrush knees
dredging fertilized hemispheres from the silt
to weave through my ears
and i'm so happy our convictions didn't misalign
watched the sun rise in my brightest room
your hand creaked in mine; i felt...
|
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Freshman Biology Seattle, Washington
You always
have great taste,
Fists full of
changing leaves,
I miss you more
Than I'd like.
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