tax it

wrapped in blankets lying there on the couch with you and the two tigers staring up through the high windows love was not lost in translation the body letting go of all earthly problems for a while until we realized we forgot to do our damn taxes

 #katyamills

no plus one

and when you feel it surging, alternating currents, rising and falling, nothing compares. true love. a cellular party. two invites. no plus ones.   #katyamills

the key

between them

the impasse had taken the shape of a mountain

yet they would not be 

apart

on the verge of incommunicable

they tapped morse code 

across the stars

will you stay in town

tonight? i will leave

the key 

#katyamills

letter to true love (1996)

Here I reprint a letter I wrote (1996) and never sent
to my first true love. We parted ways that same year.
(from my black cover diary)...

A-- ,

Do you still love me? Because I love you and I'm not fucking around when I say so. And to be perfectly clear, to make certain you understand me completely and unquestionably, I want to tell you again I love you, and I have never stopped loving you from the day I met you, through the ups and downs, the varied moods, the emotional depths and altitudes; from the joy we carried, to the coffin of pain we buried. And if you ever want back in my life, my love, there's a home for you in Tampa, FL. I will never be too proud to confess my love for you, I promise, for love is too strong to be fooled by shallow pride.

who fell (this fall) in love?

k the self. 2016. october

EXCERPT

He waited for her with all the women waiting to get their ombres and bangs, in the forefront of a high-end salon halfway into Berkeley on College Avenue. He was the only man in the place. The glass storefront so clear one was likely to crash into it, were it not for the Helvetica script lettered across it. And he felt out of place but he didn't care. She was lying back in the barber's chair with half her head dipped in a basin, and as the stylist massaged the soap out her hair into the rinse, she shut her eyes. They had traveled together in the early morning chill promising a warm summer day, to get here. He rode his skateboard, she pushed pedals on her ten-speed. Witness the weaving in and out, threading one another's tracks coming together, then apart. Talking. Laughing. Cheerful and melodic bursts into cool and receptive air. They were to meet his friend for coffee next door. Soon. She felt her head dissolve into a warm glow around her. The scattered voices of women like birds, had vanished as the water rose above the ear canals. And though she was not smiling, it was only because her smile peeled off her and sank, rocking then spinning slowly down to the granite floor of the basin, and while she was not looking, one of her eyes popped out from under the lid, and floated across the surface like a buoy marker, and nested in some soap suds. And as her mind marveled over the fresh instance of love tingling all over her body, her boyfriend uncomfortably shifted on the charcoal seat cushions not ten yards away, a Madameoiselle magazine in his hands with the image of a gorgeous Parisian cover model unimpressive to him now. His eyes moved hawkishly about the room to get a glimpse; raising him up with them to see down the middle aisle of stylists at work, past the smoke and mirrors and chirping, to the hollow toward the back of the same room where she was.  Her brain matter unraveled into a labrynthine interpretative submersive dance. Seemed like half of eternity, lost. Then swept away she was to thoughtless clarity, by the sudden opening of the drain, the lifting of her head, the watery fingers of her locks gripping the back of her neck, the half-smile pinioned to her lips, the eyeball slipping back under the lashes and lid. The sound of birds chirping. Only the thoughts had flushed on down the drain, for what use are thoughts in love's possession? The stylist was telling her something, and blowing it away. Posits and remarks, littering the floor. Her body still tingling, the glow had not left her. Just cooling in air along with the hair. She could not now help her eyes from lifting her up, in the chair as they circled around, and found him in there. Waiting for her. She found in him in there -- again, life was a blur.

-- Excerpt. Daughter of Darkness. Book #2

What Gives (dedicated to K+K)

Yesterday i was half.... today i am whole.... being with you babe made it so, you made me so. i was really sitting pretty on the front porch calling you. the immediate downcast when you did not call back made me soft. the stone under my behind chilled me cold like a front. i took down my guard and got my credit card, hit the atm for some retail therapy. pulled myself up a little taller on the sidewalks. i thirsted for you. you made me tremble. the chills ran up my legs and down my arms. so deep was the feeling. when you looked down at me from above; blurred out of my focus was the ceiling.

In my mind i remember so clear. Yesterday you were there. In my mind, you are here.  As i looked up, daydreaming of you, you tumbled away. I what the fucks up? why cannot i locate your dangerous self in the streets? when can we again roll comfortably between the sheets? the wave of your passion riding over me. the latest fashion you peeled away from me. the whole day long the music....you and me. And close to one another, we had another way to use it. To ask the kinds of questions you ask when you desire. in your eyes i witness fear and great excitement. Reflections of my own.

Stone to stone, we rocked the house. You rocked me over on the bed and fucked me pretty well... the ten minute tremor is how i could tell. i fade into your spirals, I drop into your pattern. The music of your soul, well, your music squares my saturn, my ruling planet of aquarius. fresh marked parameters. i love us all around. Up through our solar powered chakras. down the whole united states of soul. You make everything i bought into turn over. I am sold. you cost a lot less than holding. possession charge? i guess i'm guilty. the weight of evidence, ice cold. all the way down the block. you are the puppet in my sock.  i'm losing energy to the thoughts, without you i may be nothing. you come from the past and scramble my ass. bringing me to some progression on my knees. Our hearts in two beat out one  pattern so bold and true. a place where all choices get lost in the fold, the K-crew. some complicated simplicity, some droolin fools gold. im really wrapped up in your mystery. i love you.