the want ( Read more... )

being a capricorn ( Read more... )

love sits
in the space
between
punctuation marks
in the pause
for breath
for the next word
for the right thing to do
it sits there patiently
like someone waiting
reading the paper
content to miss the bus
confident another
will come along
soon enough

the key
opens the lock
the lock is hidden
you'll need a map
to find the lock
the map is in a box
locked away,
hidden

those leaves
never give up
they are
sun sponges
always thirsty
light never spills
out of them

sometimes
the light spills out of me
there is too much
my belly is full
and i want to rest

i am not a leaf

Creative types them smugglers be
For in their boots we cannot see
Across the miles in darkness travel
Avoiding police, the jury, and judges gavel
Bringing home some sweet vermouth
All to sooth the baby’s tooth

her fingers
are tiny
sledghammers

her touch,
an anvil

she makes
horseshoes
out of
me

i threw
each of my memories
of you
over the edge
of the rooftop

until

all i
was left with
was

an empty shoe box
with our names on it

Her toes
remind me
of being a
kid again,
snuggling with mom
and three
other people
in a
giant
shoe

When
she burped,
I could smell
my heart,
half digested,
sour.