this is the first original poem I’ve written in about 8 months. I think it’s best to post it raw, fresh and unedited. When I finished that last line I actually felt a great weight lift off of me – cliche as fuck, but that’s how the cookie crumbles, how the world turns, how the how hows the how – ok? (OK, I tweaked it once)

You can’t see me if I keep my face from the lens,

I’m invisible; somewhere near nowhere in particular,

Someplace called nowhere at all.

Stroke my hair, grasp the strands tightly in your

Hands. Feel my heart beat as each hair slips like silk

Between the webbed base of each finger.

Like me, love me, kiss me, hold me, call me and wait for my response –

Your echo is revenant and gracious in reply,

Filling in for me and my faceless façade.

Let the sun glare smack and glitter over me, blinding you

With electric fever.

Watch the bushes dry and crumble, but as they burn

Make sure you catch the moment on the faltering celluloid