Thursday, July 31, 2008

I will no longer cradle Your eyes in My arms, the tears 
Streaming down like fierce waterfalls there 
to the pockets of Your skin, creased. I do not 
care about Your broken hearts or sprained ankles. 
Your bruised legs. 
I want to be alone in this 
blackness, away from the yellow 
and purpled life with You. And Your jokes and candles 
and dinners and rings. 

It will go away slowly, like crying 
in the bathtub. The water from My eyes 
and disappears there amongst the luke warm womb. 

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Tell Me what it is you're thinking
You want. How was your day. 
Sometimes She's just so sad,
she'll only drink lattes, because
Eating meals, supper, dinner, lunch,
Breakfast is too much to bear alone. 
Then blueberry lips afternoons 
And She's back in his arms, wishing not
To be and not wanting to move from 
the finality of coming on top on her 
Own pillows as she lives, aware of the
Love that She is. 

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

You all have been that foundation that has prepared a feast for me. I will never grow out of your love. 

Thursday, July 24, 2008

i watched as a cloud broke apart above me in its own sky dance. it seemed to be coming towards me but never close enough to touch. i wonder what wind is moving it.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

warming thighs, stinging eyes
a very thick Thing envelopes me,
My words, they come out muddled,
muffled by insecurity and frightened
fingertips as they type out messages 
into Darkness to meet His eyes. Finally,
Calm. To soothe the wet eyes and gasping lungs.
Get strong! He screams though tears. I'm 
proud! He whispers through a frown. Embrace
the Pain, He says through smiles. 
Welcome it. Love it. 

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Goodnight to the Unborn,
goodnight to those who will
never see the morning sun on
Their mother's faces. 
The cheekbones glowing,
precious powder. 

Tuesday, July 15, 2008


It's probably not easy for You
to forget what all I said
that night.
But I am drawing blanks as the reality
of Our colored life evaporates and
My soul ricochets off old lamp posts
along the streets we have lived.
Moultrie. Queen. Lockland. Queen.

Friday, July 11, 2008

When the sun is kept in your heart, all evil vanishes from your life. You are my sunrise setting down on fields of liquid spirits. I want to lie there with your blue eyes wandering into the distant golden; with your hands searching for my hands in the blinding light of your own existence. We would lie inside of your own being, until you kicked me out, my sunset, falling.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

I will cut Myself off, like
You would trim a skirt to hem it up.
All ragged with strings falling at the sides
Tickling your legs as You walk to remind
Yourself to cut them when You get back, iron
and sew the loose edges by piercing the fabric
with an electric needle.
Press out the seam. He's Gone.
You've sewn Him out.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

I don't think I've ever been a hero. And there's something so simple and lovely about your lover being your hero.

They loved each other so much.

You can tell in the way that he kisses her, slow and with passion but with eyes closed dreaming of his hero, left. He grabs at the back of her head searching for his hero's hair, long. His hands creep up her back, reaching for his lost hero's muscles, strong and soft. He misses his hero's moans, but curls up behind her, their new bodies fitting perfectly inside the other. She cries but he doesn't let go. His colored blue teal arms grab her more tightly, his muscles confused that she isn't his hero, but something good still.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

She can't tell you the color of his eyes. Perhaps brown blue, but there they are. And a sniff on the neck. It's there, and resistance and hesitation and lust through moans and grabs and pulling her hair. The teeth don't hit once, all lips and smells in the light struggling with jean bottoms and buttons. Whatever they are, the Man is beautiful in passion on the floor and sleep it gone from your memory.