11-3-2012It was the shattering of glass,
And the stain of wine on her hands
That beckoned our leaving.
Open wounds laid out on the carpet.
Pitch dark, blue-black love
As a stigmata on our palms.
Fermentation and condensation
Served a dripping eulogy to our
Conversations as the bottle wept.
What a pity to see it
Left out to become vinegar,
And leave a bitter taste on our tongues.
We blame our mothers, and savor
The memories of their wrongs.
Woe unto us, double-crossing
Ourselves, and seeing the blood
Dripping from her talons.
We abandon, as we have been abandoned.
Our mouths too thick for excuses.
IIThis has caused me to pause.II2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My motor mouth caught on you.
Each heartbeat, each
Breath is a weighted comma
Between the spaces of the
Letters that spell out your name
And the place where I fit between them.
My soliloquy silenced by
Calloused hands, and every thing
Becomes muffled in your body.
Rinse and RepeatI danced in the blood bath, theRinse and Repeat2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Visceral path of my brothers before me,
And I carry the sins of my father in this
Sunken sternum, tapered in youth - bearing
The feminine future in the inward slope of
Collarbones, and the slimming of my
Muscles into something stronger to tread
The waters of this adolescent river.
In the humidity we glowed, swallowing
The sallow sinking sun with gaping,
Open mouths - the fledging call.
The paternal hush, hands raised to quiet
These hungry, heaving mouths.
A rivulet, red or sanguine, tracing tracts
Over my flushed complexion.
This echoing cavern, my tin can
Rib cage was a brittle barrier for
The softly cooing, resting dove that took
Its refuge beneath my lungs, and fluttered
Restless when his hands pressed down.
Callous fingers making their mark on
My previously unmapped trails - they
Are shaking anxious in the side seat.
A short glance, and the accele
11-6-12What a painful thing11-6-121 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
To love someone, and only
Want to comfort them
As you ask repeatedly,
Over and over,
To feel the blade again.
To see your blood on their hands,
And apologize for the mess you've made.
Tornado (Teaser)I.Tornado (Teaser)2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was a sound we felt more than heard. In stories, verbal recounts on the national news, a high school student will say it was like being beneath a freight train - a subway in New York, passing a cheap basement apartment in the city. This will be before it happens to them too, the ground shaking angry beneath their condominiums. We will not speak of it to each other, or anyone else, because there are no words for what we felt. The deafening limbo of a vacuum, or the lead-ridden waiting through God's tenth plague, hoping the blood of the lamb keeps your family whole. How long were we in the dark, huddled together, expecting it? How deep in the night does Death knock on the door?
Days. It was days in the thundering dark before we woke to the light in the smallest cellar window. Nathan saw it first, his eyes half-lidded, brow furrowed, him pointing a shaking finger to the yellow haze. Ears still humming, cells shivering in the echo, we tottered up with the light and silence of ear
Light/LifeLight collapsed.Light/Life1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The middle of my chest
Aflame, turning in, and
Imploding until all the nonsense
Is spilt over the names of
Those who chose to stay.
Their syllables, the daunting
Rhythm of voices reverberating
In my aching chambers.
A desire for sleep kept awake,
By a scream in the white noise.
8.27.12My name spoken,8.27.121 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Letters delicately curved like
Your tongue around a pearl.
Little secrets rolling over
Hip bone contours, and
The idea of 'us' -
Wrapped in satin.
Do not open until
The fear fades to a dull
Acing, abstract, something.
Until you feel safe,
With their ego in your mouth.
All This Ink...I washed on your shore, barely breathingAll This Ink...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tasting saline, and holding my ear to the conch
To hear the ocean against a different beach.
Theres still dirt under my toenails,
From when I dug them into the earth -
To brace myself from being swept away.
Im a hostage in my own head,
Dissecting every word you may have meant
In a different way than it was said.
So with the turn of the tide my resolve gave way.
I could never swim too far from you.
As I RememberedYou are still beautiful.As I Remembered1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A chance meeting -
The street dark, and
Your face as I remembered.
"I was thinking of you,"
Almost escaped me, but
(as I always did too much,)
And instead talked of
How happy I feel, and
Why running might not be the answer.
And your face, as I remembered
Your support, a passing comment.
But I noticed a fleeting moment,
A flash of either doubt or guilt,
And if only I could speak as
Plainly as I do with those who
Mean little to nothing
When paired to you.
I could know if it was me,
Or the things you did
That haunt you.
Wake Up in a ComaI can't breathe.Wake Up in a Coma1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You and all your blueprints,
Planned out on my chest.
Piano fingers pulling at my clavicle.
Lost in thought about being
Anywhere but here -
Anywhere, but any place without you.
Sickness, desertion, and isolation
Play a familiar taste on my tongue.
Squeezed between the bridge of my nose,
Which can smell only you on a foreign body.
A placated craving to be alone,
And to remember what it felt like
Not to need you,
Miss you now as you missed me then,
And to whisper in the dark.
Anxious hands that shake from fear,
Busy being alive, and reaching
For the memory of your back.
The shadow of blame, and
The nostalgic tremor of nervousness.
Waking up in a coma alive,
Autumn leaves, and
A shortness of breath.
Note to SelfYou are still awake,Note to Self1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And able to see your own face.
You can still stand, and
Talk with a tempered edge.
You can still breathe
Even when each sigh is
Punctuated at the center.
It is only fear that
Keeps their feet firmly
Down on your chest,
And when your sternum cracks,
At least they look sorry.
The RoseAt a desk, coffee sachets rest.The Rose2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Long-life milk harbours
white dreams of expiry.
Shuffling in his forgetful nest
a grey man blinks
at the intruding light.
Americo, do you remember
your antique power,
that opened like a rose
on the walls of Hiroshima?
Ghost WritingThe words grew hollowGhost Writing4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Meaningless somehow- thinner.
I forgot why I loved
The dusted air of summer.
I forgot why I took
My pen to paper.
I forgot why I chose,
A book of vapour or a written rose.
As all the petals of
Prose fell away.
At the end of the day
I was left with letters.
8.22.12“We actually have more than five senses,” Adrian said, food tucked into his cheek like a hamster. “There’s the sense of balance, for example.” He spoke about the cerebral cortex. He grasped the back of his neck with his hands. “Kinesthetics. The sense of our body’s relation to objects around us.”8.22.121 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Adrian chewed, his gaze focused on her as she considered it. He heard only clips of what he had said. Instead, he was focused on her eyes. They were magnified by coke bottle lenses, a harsh reflection from the lamp above them slashed a white line through her green irises. She was, she had said, legally blind without them. Her gaze made him uncomfortable; the glasses making her eyes look like petals frozen beneath ice; the edges shivering as their separate ponds began to thaw. Little veins, flecks of gold still gathering light in their hibernation, the fade of autumn preserved just before death. It wasn’t the genetic deficiency that