May 2010
1 post
3 tags
The Movies
Before the green screen of your life, you stand poised for action—but are you waiting for tragedy or for comedy?
March 2010
5 posts
3 tags
An Offering
He swallows the teeth I deposit beneath his pillow: secrets plied from my tissue. In this act we measure love: a brittle moment of discomfort before they settle in the stomach to be dissolved into his blood.
5 tags
On Writing Haiku In Our Tongue
Counting syllables in our language, I am struck: your name needs no word.
4 tags
Survival Instinct
After the elevator cord breaks I will again have written. I vowed this mammothly, forehead sprouting fur and stalagmite tusks, teeth long and sumptuous waiting for the snap.
3 tags
Gardener
I can grow without your water. I won’t bloom without your light.
3 tags
From Your Skeptic
Your gentle phrenology: I believe in it, that lie.
February 2010
1 post
3 tags
Like a Photograph
It should be no surprise, then, that I remember the shape of your hips despite my loathing of them. For once I knew the placement of your every rib more surely than my own. I could reach for them in the dark.
January 2010
13 posts
3 tags
How We Are Structured
The mechanic you bridges across the river me all rivets, planks and knots my hair feeds the fish your arms of wood stationary, stiff as I rush by
3 tags
Housewarming
Tonight I am obsessed with bringing you home: weaving a nest of color in comforters, pillows. Domesticity smiles, a candlestick winks, behind us the cat snores. Do wear your pajamas to enter this fort; let us play games beneath the table.
3 tags
Quick Question
What is more bizaare than your face tarred with the muck of this fever dream?
2 tags
(And Dirt Still Gets Stuck Underneath)
Though my nails have grown long, they are still brittle, they may still break.
2 tags
Conception
Though you are but a glimmer, know that you are loved humbly, ecstatically, terribly.
2 tags
Starlight
Into your hand I press a star, and it burns you.
2 tags
Music
We are not the stuff of love songs, for you do not hear the lyrics; you hear only air tinged with upright bass, bassoon, the unadorned voices of strings. Somehow you block out the words, a skill I’ve never accomplished.
4 tags
Desire
Lick the tip of my cigarette. (So my ash burns against your cool tongue.)
3 tags
No, and Yes
Tonguing the roof of my mouth, I see you for who you are: surrogate to my self-sabotage, the one on whom my blame rests. We cry, we fight. All days blend into one, a stream downhill. Change the channel, take off that dress, you say, and lock the door already. And I will, always. While thinking: You are but a symptom of my happiness, nothing more—yet still, I am glad.
2 tags
Intimacy
Sketch your stories upon the small of my back. Paint your truths onto my skin so they may seep through my pores and join my blood. Let me know you.
2 tags
Definition
Couplet: the twine that binds your lips to mine.
2 tags
Mantra
C’est la vie girl, head upon your faded pillow — patchwork heart girl, blinded by your grief — remember that you are a part of this world, you are its dear axis, its crown.
2 tags
Together
The round surface of our days: an orb formed from earth, shaped in our hands until smooth, unending.