Luis Zul

Void Like the century events mismatch  my fickle memory No points will be found if people gawk gawk gawk spewing words with no sauce I curl my fingers to my ears and bend the temple to my knees. I sing a mute lullaby with strong chords soft inverts  half notes and gentle prayers. Why are bricks so brittle when left alone to their elements? I face a tapestry made of my own cinder blocks  and sand squares made from headless torsos. I cast a long needle-thin thread afar to fish for unheard compliments with rough edges to sharpen my claws. I need to fish silently, discreet, for God forbid He hears the gospel oozing out of my trustworthy confidants. Damn. I think I need another one of those mood-boosting, booty-busting rides across the Atlantic sunset. It looks like I took the wrong ticket. The circus ran out of clowns when it sold out  of frozen strawberry soft serve. I fell into a frenzy of vanilla swirls that made my mouth pucker. Rocky road is a tasty treat But lavender fiel

I don't really like winters, but their onset brings early sunsets I appeal to. Pink, purple, yellow. The strikes of my hairline grow into a coat. They shield my summertime from the frigid chambers, short ceilings, and lopsided corridors. Pink, purple, yellow. The empty spaces fill my buzzing head. My temples bang against the grain of the wall trying to get rid of them. Pink, purple, yellow. Hold your reins, gently: you don't want to harm poor old Stacey. And if I shall depart with something, it'll be your robes. And if I leave, it won't be by your choice but my own. And if I need to go, it'll be for love. And if I come back, it'll be for a dozen more sunsets in the edge of fall. I find love every day in strangers and friends. While sometimes it feels lonely and stale, I feel a warmth that if I never find in you that's okay.

Can I meet you tomorrow? I need a hug. There are things  that I need to shake off. I danced and sang it off for now so it's not extremely urgent, I think. I was there, girl. In front of the fangs of the abyss, licking the last crumbs of my fading bliss. I tugged desperately the length of my cord, barely escaping the bite of the scythe. I logged on Grindr and felt immediately gross. I knew it was gonna be that way, so why did I bother to log in? I wanted someone to cut with their scissors the vines from my loved one -- no longer one. My hands are too sore and cramped from trimming trimming trimming every week the chains that come back stronger tying me to a desk I no longer believe in. What am I to do instead when cries for help are shots in the dark, when the hand in everyone's clock is ajar, when the floor is covered by unfolded laundry and stacks of dishes. There's a palette in my night table waiting for my hand. It begs me to paint landscapes with memories f

What a fool. This pansy talks in a steady, passive voice. Instead of saying he wants to be held, if he just carried through, he would increase his chances of doing something great. He would make a mark out of his feeble, fickle existence. What a fool. What a fad. This man thinks the Great Assby will be the leader of the retribution from the disparity of many ages past. What he forgets is that anyone seldom does anything for free, if anyone would, peace would reign anywhere, unhinged. What a fool. What a fad. What an embarrassment to our class. Wake up. He doesn't give a shit about you. He won't pay his dues. You'll just be there moping on the floor waiting, like an invasive bug, one moment there, and the next one stomped with your insides sprawled all over. You've been told a hundred million times of what a pathetic act it is to be soft and kind, to open up after being run over by someone that is now somehow fucking someone  somewhere. Somehow the pain of he

I need a strong bond, like gluten, to pick me up from the hot spicy sour soup that I've cooked during the summer. My body says help. My insides scream and yell. They politely decline all asks and invites I've committed to. The body, once gleeful, realizes that energy gets transformed to piercing medicine for its joints, hardening like a web, restricting all movement. The lake now, so distant and serene, makes great contrast with the boiling furnace of my temples and thighs. I've ignored you for way too long. I've tried dancing I've tried climbing, knowing nothing replaces the cooling breeze by Morpheus's shores and reefs. I've made space for me and you to heal. The rest is up to you.

I gained weight recently but at least my ass got thicker. After all, you can't offer over the counter service if the backdoor isn't up to standards. My nutritionist tells me I get more weight when I lift more, and hell if that hasn't been the case, the invisible dumbbells pressing harder against my hips. I may be no heavy weight lighter but I lift my spirits every day nurture every family member and friend: All a pretty big briefcase to carry.