keyholes between clouds
permit glimpses of summer
sun brightens puddles
Friday, June 27, 2014
Juneuary
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Light
in its place the sun roils
immense and unfathomable
sending photons hurtling toward earth
that eight minutes from now
she will not notice
as she drives home
trembling
weeping
regretting
instead of seeing
this moment
in all its perfection
only later will she sit
and breathe
and feel the light upon her skin
and when she does
nothing will be fixed
and she will bow
to everything that can't be fixed
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Heartbeat
every heartbeat has
a soaring spike, then a dive
electricity
racing dizzily along
fibers that will die one day
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Apple
first bite of apple
teeth tearing into sweetness
light upon the tongue
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Sunset
near to the solstice
a gash across the twilight
sunset spurting blood
she stops to write about it
and looks up to find it gone
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Dancer
I'm sure he doesn't know
how graceful he is
the sharp angle of his elbow
suspended in air as he taps the buttons of his calculator
is ineffably simple and lovely
I watch him and I doubt
that he knows what it is to be connected
to trade electrons
so fluid and aloof, my beloved
perhaps I think he's dancing
because I only catch him in glimpses
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Ejection
that unbuckles with disquieting ease
ejections and rough landings
and muffled slippings away
things come undone
or are purposefully cut loose
the rest of us wait our turn
we're not in line
Friday, June 6, 2014
Happy and Thankful
she knows his influence
has altered the course of her life
and left it entirely the same
she is happy and thankful
she knows she wants to see him
wants his accent in her ears
his body in her bed
she is happy and thankful
she knows she may never see him again
because life is unpredictable
and everything is temporary
she is happy and thankful
she knows she misses her children
still feels inadequate and bereft
over the custody battle she lost
she is happy and thankful
she knows the next time she sees them
she will hug them tight and buy them smoothies
then she will drop them off to their father
who may be neutral, or cruel, or chatty, or sneer at her
she is happy and thankful
she knows she may cry on the way home
or may scream and think about driving off the highway
before returning to her breath
and arriving home safe and calm
unless someone else's driving kills her anyway
she is happy and thankful
she knows she is the Buddha
and she doesn't understand that at all
she is happy and thankful
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
She Observes Her Lover
she observes her lover
as though through a microscope
scientifically
noting the details:
he's grown a cowlick
and three small folds of fat where he bends
and another bike chain bracelet
he's sprouted parts that dismiss her
and parts that cling
tonight he bit her
peppering her limbs with marks
that faded the next moment
she escaped herself and returned
with a soulsmack
she'd been trying to absorb him
hindered by his wholeness
she'd been trying to mix
like two colors of paint
because so often he is new
and it is easier to change herself
than to stumble upon him
changed
Monday, June 2, 2014
Deep Time
Shorebird
like a shorebird tracing the water's surface
the lake rises to his touch