writing at the office

"...because light didn't mean anything to him. as we know, he made love with his eyes shut."
- Milan Kundera-

Cinci.
I go to museums to remember you. I tell you all about paint and how it works as a vehicle for change. This is how I change-- by way of remembering what it used to feel like to create you through kisses. Now kisses are collected from memory by admiring the paint on fabric. Every inch of canvas is reprocessed to be made beautiful in someone's eyes by the texture of the paint and the mixture of color on white. Your skin like canvas was repossessed by kisses. I took it and rearranged it with my mouth. Little licks of color screaming "LET ME OUT! I WANT YOU!"
I am screaming now as I look at the paint. I feel the texture with my hands barely touching the fabric. "I WANT YOU" still. I pretend the canvas is skin. Your skin--porous and perfect-- erupts with energy in my memory.

< I had it then I lost it. I spoke in an American English at one point. I smiled like a golden arch.
Then, I kissed you. S for me= a revealing of self
Poetry is veiled language. Why do I write to hide?

...
cinci.
I had a dream that my camera caught fire and it's parts started to dance around in specs in front of my face like fireflies or city lights. (or city lights like fireflies)


....
manila.
This is what Manila looks like when she cries-- glistening streets like shiny pennies.
She screams (but like this)
This is how she cries (title)
and then we wonder why we miss her and then we realize that it's because she holds the secrets to everything.
then he realizes that she's still sleeping and she won't come back not for a while. This is something he can't share with her. (sleep)
she's far away. She's somewhere else like cinci's far away and somewhere else but not quite because he can email her
and reach her. but you can't email someone when they're dreaming. You can't call them up. You can wake them up but then you'll destroy their dream.
(waking up) It allows you to sheare in whatever you want with them which maybe is what he wants (???) WHAT does he want? FUCK
... He doesn't know for sure. All he knows is he is going to fall in love and he doesn't care with who.
....or who with?
....or how?
....he doesn't want to be alone anymore!!
he's lost. that's the point. he'll stay lost and isolated because he's too into himself to care about this. he's too dense to see that he's missing out ....

ugh, writer's block is only in my mind?
maybe, talent leaves like people leave.
I haven't used it in a while. Maybe, it felt neglected and decided to move on to someone else who will make use of it.