Wednesday, October 29, 2014

I am making us lists

Whimsy dictates: you were immortalized on her person
before the first rays of the sun illuminated the city.

Taken to heart. Really.
You are akin to a very large body of water in my veins.

And while sleeping trumps everything,
sleep is a small price to pay
to get the conversation going.

"I have to pause to take your words in, to let them envelope me, and I swear,
they almost feel like the way you run your fingers languidly across my skin.
For a moment there, I can feel you right next to me."

What is returned, when one extends something
far more generous that what was agreed upon.

You say
I say -- hey.

Here's the thing about writers (no matter how tiny) -- they rarely forget, enforcing what they remember or try to retain, with a few words here and there, a misplaced poem, little missives of absolute adoration.

I don't know if you should count yourself lucky. 

Friday, October 24, 2014

Untitled I

So you are given time
on days spent confined in a space
running on a bolus of conversation.

Shifting beside her as a light flickers
on and then off, perhaps signaling a move on,
you cock your head in question.

She meets the question with a smile for an answer,
as if saying "I'm okay," having taken the prescribed x number
of sleep needed to make the weekend worthwhile.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

How we scar ourselves

Waking up this morning to complete quiet, you slowly ooze out of bed. A promise is a promise, and you promised. The heaviness of the promise looms in the air, wraps itself in the folds of your skin even as you attempt to smile at your bedraggled image in the mirror. You get a grimace in return.

You think of writing.

But no. What good has it brought you this time? Sure the words flow easily now, they pour out of you like never before. But you speak too much of the truth and your words are potent in the absence of knives. Everything is so new to you and a thought comes to mind. Not good enough. 


Friday, October 3, 2014

Haiku I

Stay with me tonight.
I will carry you, my love.
No, I will not tire.

Heart farts today of all days.