ddrip drip dripp

earth
shattering
quake.
green bank lamp hangs limp.
sad, it's hanging its head.
it's perched atop stacked speakers
on its one good leg.
clubbed foot more stable than it seems.

positivity.

the light inside is the
brightest i have ever seen.
oh so LED.
we sit rhomboidal.
all twitching with electricity.
but only my hair is
reminiscent of Einstein.

a crackling wave,
donut-shaped
makes its way from behind my
weak teeth,
down my throat.
OOOOAAAAAKKKKKKK.
doesn't taste as good as bark.
but i'll admit it smells just as sweet.

boy to the left sits
with blank page in an open book upon his lap.
pen in hand,
he hovers,
hesitates.
i see him make anorexic linework.
the pen advertises "0.1"
but he manipulates it into .005

my love to the right sits empty-handed.
earlier, he drew.
watching his hands move in creativity
sends beauty shivers down my spine.
he is perfect through my dull,
brown eyes.

his jade green platters baked in the middle
evade my sight.

my hands tremor to touch the hairs
that grow out of his baby face.

mr. green lamp shade still hangs limp, depressed, used,
but loved.

hotels

lightning in my periphery,
the appliances are all wood furnished.
the armchair sticks its
ottoman-tongue at me.

floral bed sheets.
a moustache of the same pattern
grows over the ground level window.

thunder.

hotel rooms
always tell me to
feel something.
evoke hotel emotions.
act out hotel verbs.

but i remain me.

i feel perfectly centered in this
rectangular room.

two bodies on either side of me
all three (of us)
with pen in hand.

to the left scribbles biblical phrases
and the right draws out his emotions (well, in ink).

my pen runs low.

hospiter

i guess i'm kinda like an old furnace.
overheating
and plagued by fatigue
i crawl up the stairs of my parents house.
it's the second day of summer.

yesterday i was at the hospital;
it wasn't me who was sick.

all i could do in the hospital
was stare into his eyes.
they're jade, but not as matte,
nor as cold.
they're brown right at the pupil.
cooked a bit, i think,
from seeing the truth in the world.

he's been in some pain.

three times is the count
in the past few months.
i've driven him going eighty, twice.
this time we were apart.

he was transported by ambulance.

in my car on the way there
i had body crawling jitters.
i needed to control my breathing.
in, out.
in, out.

after some time, he needed a CAT scan.
i was still looking into his eyes.

they wheeled him out.

i was alone in the bright room,
now big with his absence.
the light bulbs mocked me.

in that moment, in my mind,
i perused the thought of him not returning.
i imagined the nurse arriving empty-handed
having stolen my love away.

i would have killed her.

the minutes elongated.
the room breathed.
i stared at things.
anything.

and then i heard his voice.
distant,
but there.