(no subject)

Before you, did I dream of paradise?

I mean there were places
Lofty, and beautiful too
On a high mountain in the north
In the chilly clouds,
Quiet cabins locked
In dense forests
With whispering fires,
Places to sit, and trace comets
At midnight.

But you, you make me feel
Warm and wet
As though we were in a place where
Every breeze was sultry and soft.
The sun beams, the air crackles,
With a distant roll of thunder.
And for a place so climatic, it is so quiet.
The high waves crash
And bury us

(no subject)

There was a time when I walked by the river
with you, you weren't really there,
but everything was blooming,
and I mooned over steady ripples
that were slapping the bank,
gently but surely.

The milkweeds broke into pyritic umbers
like flashes of light across the sky
and we spoke of storms with no
conclusion, feeling the crackle,
friction from a long past.

There is more back there.
More in the mists to be uncovered,
more in the way of wounds, years to recover.
There is more in times we cannot remember.
This is why we do not leave each other.
Why you are here now as I stare
into the river. 

Compost is for Roses

I spent the day digging up weeds and replacing them with vines.
I gave them my goodwill but not my love--these are groundcovers.
I gave them moist, loose soil. I gave them mulch.
I gave them an afternoon's sunburn, a dirty slice in the finger,
  three bandaids, full-body muscle aches.
I admire them, but they are not for me.
I've saved the compost from at least a decade of garbage
  --scattered, broken-down debris;
  processed, filtered and transformed.
It's for the rose I'm waiting on.
Pending delivery.

The Broken Mirror

(When He Looks at You)

The fractured self
Alone and divided

The spiderweb of cracks
With fraying ends

Seeking, seeking,
And spreading

Out feelers to touch
the warmth and fire of connection...

Splaying out, a puddle,
Sinking in, stagnant pool.

I want to talk,
Say those things, to ground us here

I want to explore
All depths beneath. 

(no subject)

If the sea seems so vast
And its depths so oppressive,
Why sink?
Why allow the heart to be carried
Like a heavy stone?

There's more water in our home
Than legs upon the land.
Let it be your roots
Let it dissolve you.

It will be your bath, and
The breath that fills you
Will keep you afloat.

When you see the sky,
Soak in the golden light
And silver starlight,
Let the breezes cross your face.

And when you can, swim.
When you can, float.
When you can't,
Give your body to dissolution

Like existence was never important. 

(no subject)

The sky is darker than my depths
And as long as I look, I cannot see.
I want to return to the hands
that were grasping me,
guiding me.

I offer you my obsessions, warm
brutal density of my middle.
It is yours, the sacrifice
to be near to you, without you
I will always wander.

Indigo Blues

Here I am a shell
And you wouldn't recognize me
In another body

If so light, so untrue

Fickle and changing
to a fresher blossom,
This is ancient pain.

Do I truly choose the lasting
If less destructive bond,
is this all in my sorrowful pit

Derived of a tired lack
We're both subject. And restless
to the bone.

We need depth and fire, and
Mystery and substance besides,
Beyond this fragile skin.

(no subject)

Questions and Love

Split open
like a cardboard box in its two sides
of triumph and falter,
I am soft and papery but looking through
this sudden gap.

I miss you - but is it you?

Empty light, morning’s window, winter’s dawn
Sadness older and deeper than me,
My heart scraped, smoothly along metal strings
And Vashti Bunyan sings.
You’ll never know how I look on

It’s been so impossible to know

Do you only hurt or

(no subject)

You needn't avert your gaze
As though there is no more to be seen
Here, we have always been bound and retracted
And tossed near again.
However you sail, on a lonely ship starry-eyed
And despairing, or on some new blazing emblemed
Adventure, I am near you.
I don't mean to bind you, I too feel odd constraint;
Life, a glass bottle, void of contents,
And I, longing to take up space.

(no subject)

I dreamt you left your
Ankle bracelet behind
And it was heavy and wet.

I stared at it.

A thud on the floor
Several raindrops fell
You walked away, carelessly.

I watched its placement
In the center of my room
Laying heavy on the floor.

I never moved it.

How many times I've wished
I could shake you
To free you of your weight

If only caring wasn't a shackle
And solitude neglect
If only numb was never normal.