Memoirs of a Musician

Actions Without Words

“Tell me that you love me,” I said.

“I love you.” he responded.

“Tell me that you really love me.”

“I really love you.”

My fingers fiddled with the napkin on my lap as I turned my head downwards. It was a dimly lit dining room, so dim I was afraid for the waiters to trip on their own feet. So dim that if his eyes were any color but brown I would’ve assumed them to be anyway.

“Show me how you love me.” I looked to his face.

“Do you expect me to do something I have no interest doing? I dread, even?” I did not know this voice.

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"Let’s not talk about how I am. It’s a subject I know too much about to want to think about it any more."
Nick in “A Way You’ll Never Be”, Ernest Hemingway
Thursday, June 7, 2012
"birds are
in(trees are in)
when to me you
leap and i’m born we
‘re sunlight of
ee cummings.

jagged edge.

i like the taste of beer
i’m a little rough on the edges

i house a love for destroying a pure body with ink and needles
i can be a little rough on the edges

i read the Bible to the sounds of nightcrickets and the neighbors fucking
(rather than at the holy sunrise while the birds sing)
i can be a little rough around the edges

i find bones beautiful

dark waters enchant me

sex symbols, i look up to

people find my heart

(i’m still learning how to love)

a little jagged

Monday, June 4, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012

time zones.

The earth
Is in the in between
Like puberty for a child/adult
Not quite morning
Not quite night
The sun pauses
All the world is bright
Good morning
And good night

Saturday, May 26, 2012


i fell in love
with the feeling-
of being yours
i made passionate love
to the feeling
inside of my head
i was so enthralled
with the idea
of holding your hand
leaning against your body
and you supporting me
that i forgot about your soul
your person
and that i didn’t love that
only the feeling