song

the song of summer has ended
and we nest inside our city
apartments

these dawns thaw out long
after the sunrise. i cut most
my hair off and dive beneath

the complexities

i can smile waking up again. i
can find myself again
in the winter. i

can see my breath

singing

untitled

the sun stopped paying attention to our land. we found our way to town by the light of the moon. we traded our apple harvest for peace of mind.  the shades took our offering reluctantly. they wanted our homes and our lives. the cool nights will give way to storms. we can only hope to be deluged and snowed in for the winter. it will be our only chance to survive.

was december

the month was turning over like you, beside me, in bed. i knew you would be there for me and that was the point. i got so tired of getting passed by and passing by and i began to believe i deserved more, i wanted more. but first i had to understand how to be alone and be good with one.

now it’s december and not so cold, anymore.

force me through the holidays

I could take my happy freshly home-highlighted head on a smiling walk down the road, the street flanked by sycamore trees and not so many post office boxes anymore, throwing all their skinny winter arms into the empty sky asking for what? Ya I could on a head full of Peruvian Oro Verde.

I am makin’ room for us so small in my head, I only have a cupboard left to rent  it’s like New York City in there. Ya but I’ll do it just to keep you. I could freeze and throw my arms up, too, and stand there until it’s dark and a Ford Explorer with one headlight takes me out — so how I feel is real —  I hurt the way you hate me, passively, denyin it all along like your some kinda saint cannot hate.

I love the way I remember us. I could continue, long past the ancient era of news and music and video on paper and tapes. Or I could shut the cupboard up and paint it, put the painting over it my friend just gave me. Something new, you know. Where love goes after a dead end. Left me stupid, left me dumb, left me empty at the end of a road, thanks a lot. Then told me keep going, right off the road. If I still loved you I could and you know I would.

How much silence is left to dilute the poison in a media concentrated mind. Give me an ugly sweater, some pumpkin pie and a league of national football and force me through the holidays. Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to wake you…but… how much poison is left, is there enough to kill the silence?

No, no, fuck all that!

Gimme a broken home to fix.  I’ll take my memories on multigrain, multiplatinum, put it on a wall, behind glass. Then one night in creative impulse, after he chases up my skirt and back down into a dream, I’ll break the glass and pull the alarm, hover out on a hard drive’s shiny disc, slicing through an mp3 made by you and me. I’ll run away and then walk back. I’ll love you in secret. I’ll make love with a memory pulled out of a locket. I’ll stab the knife into the socket. I’ll pray for us in public. I’ll stare into the eyes of the baby tigers.

Autumn is

A stretch of small city road, gone country under a blanket of fallen leaves. A crunchy bicycle ride over said dead leaves. A look all around and see colors. In a cafe, inspired to say, i love you, to yours, as you hold them by woven, heavy cotton and wool, at the arms just above a pale palette of wrist.

katyamills.com.