What if you could lose your nose?

What if
you could
lose your nose
if you

stopped thinking
about it for
long enough?

That's sometimes
how I feel.

It's a shame
that the way we create
is not a part
of our bodies.

I was only ever
as big as the spaces between your fingers-

I think that's what
scared me the most.

dictionary.com

home

   [hohm]  Show IPA noun, adjective, adverb, verb,homed, hom·ing.

noun

1.

a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usualresidence of a person, family, or household.

2.

the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.

3.

an institution for the homeless, sick, etc.: a nursing home.

4.

the dwelling place or retreat of an animal.

5.

the place or region where something is native or most common.

Love and Home and Dreams

I've always told myself
that I'd never let loving someone
be more important than my dreams,

then I started to dream of you
and that complicated things.

I started breaking at the knees,
became threadbare at the seams
you know I used to believe
that sometimes skin needs scars
to hold it together when it
starts to pull apart,

my heart, my mind
on the edge of my body
asking you what you call home,

I am a person without a home
but with somewhere to sleep,
and you to love and that's good I think,

I want to take you to every place
I've read about in books
so I can say that I've been in love with you
everywhere that someone calls home

because home is a beautiful concept
and you are a beautiful human being
and that fucking scares me, but I like it,
most days I really do, and when it's not terrifying
I think that's beautiful, too.

I won't ask you to make home,
but I'd love to see you be home-
I can't even imagine how beautiful that must be.

"I'm like the man who carried a brick with him
to show the world just what his home looked like."

-Bertolt Brecht

A Reoccurring Reality

Here we are
wearing our bulbous,
placental gloves

trying to crochet
a better world.

Unable to put down the hook
at the risk of losing
validation for attempted
craftsmanship,

we do not ask ourselves
who we are trying
to keep warm.

You, like I,
are convinced that
a blind man will see
red if he tries hard enough.

If he breaks bread
with the red-seers.

If he gives them his time
(while he takes theirs),
wrapping them in texture.

When did they teach us
what we could not learn?

XII

it can't exist.