sometimes, and other times, not

Fish_face
Tatooed_hands

1953

today i smelled summer on the edge of the wind and the baby's laughter was like light shattering in slow motion. it was the way the trees were bending. they were reaching that way, but why?
and the herring came by the tornado full. when the tide was out, the smell of the eggs in the sun made some of the women hold scarves to their noses. it felt like a southern hemispheric kind of winter.
the girls, and oh the girls. you wouldn't believe...

 

 

 

poem © jamie erin 2011

the key got lost

 

Europe_travels_2_787

wake wake wake little bird
you've pecked through her soul
and she is bleeding all over the balcony

this is what makes her dizzy
and now the wolves have smelled her blood

she will be gone soon
and so will he
but at least she always knew she was ephemeral
he think he's concrete
(and she knows concrete sinks)

so down down down he will sink
and she will not cry for him anymore because she is desert dry
bone dry
white washed and curled up

goodbye driftwood
goodbye straining, exhausted love
goodbye scratchy sand

you will not be missed
(yes you will)

 

 

 

 

 

photo and poem © jameerin 2011

(download)

i like my body when it is with your
body.  It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss,  i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

 

 

e.e. cummings

 

(photos taken by joanna and me)