memorial

a small fire burns within the cavity I once called my heart. the shadows cast by the flames — a memorial — each a sweet remembrance, a lost hope, a faded dream, dancing on the cave walls like figures in jubilation.

at this point

                  my regrets pierce the heavens like stars   my dreams litter the landscape, sparkling shattered glass in the beating sun. each day   the vultures of hope peck my bleached bones clean — at this point, life has failed expectation. yet for the gift of fire I would burn…

Parting Glances

What is a first glance? A way of saying goodbye. and a threshold enters as much as it leaves. contains as much as it rejects. we work at parting glances, splitting the differences of space and air, a carnival of words, exchanged for fleeting glimpses of a stranger and a desired kiss. caressing fingers that…

Late Season Pruning

Trellis of his beauty, she— A God, he created her in the image of— [woman, women: bits                         and pieces] She is his flower garden. He plants his roses,             he cultivates. Ivy climbs across her back, wrapping around             her sides in formal array. She sobs for his beauty. Irises upon irises, violet. She…

Glimpses of Angels

Her dress is snagged by briars her hair falling down She wears a ring of dandelions like a halo She says I see the bird song and hear time slipping by   In town they say she’s crazy I say I tend to agree   She frolics naked by the meadow chasing butterflies she dances…

TV

the portal flickers blue light across the room. though you know better, you pass through, unconscious

delicate desperation

Spring pushes through the ground, away the images frozen in my mind. I try not to pin too much on such a delicate season, yet, Spring, you must save me.

Dying Softly

Buying bicycles, my boyfriend and I stood in line.  From the next isle over, a white-trash, rotted teeth, camouflage- fishing-hat wearing man says,                 “Hey, dude, what time’s                 the game tonight?” Momentarily unaware of his intention, I mutter “I have no idea.” With his laughter, realization and anger at myself for not saying:                …

At Home in the Garden of Good and Evil

Partake of the fruit, my friend. The rewards are ours to reap; we have planted the seeds.   Let the sweetness linger on your tongue, catch in your throat the rewards are ours to reap.   Bent like daffodils, children in war torn starvation. Shining like sunbeams, mothers in radiant aggravation. Pouring like a fountain,…

Absalom’s Tresses

Your unmatched beauty drives chariots and men, a teeming throng. Yet you garrote your own throat with your barbed tongue. Your fine face betrayed                 when I told you, “You are the precious                                 last breath of a drowning man. You are rocks in my pockets.” You are my death. In your name, this…