03/09/2016

Our eyes met and you wanted me.
Our lips met and I wanted you.
Whiskey and lemonade and deception
Stolen breath and hushed mirth.

You spoke to me in platitudes I planned desperately to believe.

Time is the killer of compassion.
Reality, of dedication.
Trite idioms and an insistence of intention
(It’s not about you, I didn’t intend to hurt you)
Turn my reflection to Medusa and my heart to stone.

Faith and trust are cotton in my mouth and water in my lungs.

Thoughts bound and tongue glued, the tomorrows weigh heavy.

I still want you.

09/25/2015

I want to write something bigger than you.
I want my words to move mountains.
To stretch from sea to sand to lonely cliff,
metaphors tumbling with sharp staccato, edges wearing thin, smoother than your glib lies will ever be.

I want to write something other than love.
Having love, lacking love, I want to
throw
off
the
shackles
I have bound myself in by submitting to you.

I want the colors to burst from me, a kaleidoscope
hard as diamonds,
soft as skin.
Fractured, I want to bind myself together, fitting the torn edges. Broken, I want to find myself whole again.

I want to navigate the deep trenches between us.
To open the gates
I did not close,
I did not break.
To stumble into the sunlight blinking,
fingers like keys in locks,
pulling us into adventure.

I want to write about the path not taken,
my words and actions in harmony
as I do on to you as you cannot
(or will not)
do on to me.

I want to be enough to hold this stumbling cadence together.
To define myself not by you,
but with you.

I want to believe with every fiber,
heart to loins,
crest to sole,
inhale the future you whisper into my lungs.

I want the sun to rise. I want the earth to warm. I want the days to stack like stars, infinite and vast in light and heat.

I shiver in the chill
as I reach my arms across our bed to stroke you.
I slide across your back and wonder where you are.

I write something smaller than you, the ice building to a wall of stone, impervious.

Poem from 7/2008

who is she and what does she want?
this girl with the flat iron eyes
depth drifting in the glint of polish

i saw you before you met me
across a room, across the earth

my skies don’t blue the way they used to

he will love you and he will never
never look back at me again

i feel the same way

slide past the melancholy of my anger
a whisper told volumes to the boy
desperate to be a man, my mistake

he uses love as a plaything
joy and radiance and convenience

when you touch me i remember who i am