Therapist waiting room.

Sixteen years ago. ...

"Why don't you go play with the toys"

Thomas the Train


Lincoln logs



Penny for your thoughts?


I'd rather play with these puzzle pieces.

I'd rather make a picture before saying a single word. // "Mom, can we go yet?"

Piece together piecemeal peaces // "Mom"

Ponderous photos of a truth half told // "Mom"

Fragmented fiction.

Curvaceous cures for a condemned conscious;

Condom Cinderella was a coy collector of my curiosity

These secrets engorge themselves in the shadows of your Sacred Geometry

I crawl toward it, blistering from the boil of this buxom bridge between broken and bent.

They say the pyramids were tombs

But what if they were puzzle pieces, trying to imagine the space between humanity and divinity?

The answer lies in dying within the question.

I'd rather play with the puzzle pieces.

I'd rather finger Aphrodite with all of the urgency of the Pharoahs reaching towards Heaven.

Freeze while feasting in the shade of her Sacred Geometry; swallowed by the flickering tongues of these twisted secrets-

Whispering in the dark

Worshiping in the dark

Condom Cinderella spreads her legs and whispers that no two atoms ever touch.

Runs her hand down my stomache

Chill bumps are funeral pyres to an ambition unbridled

Grasping for a truth not yet raised

Fragmented fiction

We boil in the sweat from our toils; poking fun at every incomplete absolute

Erecting a question; building a bastion from Horus's uncompromising eye.


Lincoln Logs