Cardinal

Lending strength stronger than sweet grass and
earthy smells dripping with ease; calm this trembling

desire.

Pulling together words so tender

in an imperfect moment; allow for the spaces
inbetween.

Smoothed sigh passing through open lips

and soaking gently in true night air; readily
exposed.

Striking eyes swimming in something unseen

pulled like rolling waves; drifting beneath magnetic
moons.

      

        

Wings

Today
         I am awake.
I dreamt that you were somehow
torn
paper wings falsely stolen by seductive storms
a thousand smacking tree branches, and the wind was
wild
swerving vehicles and slick surfaces caused you to perceive
that perilous conditions had stolen your
flight
swelling seas and you forgot your ability
to tilt forward, look past the tumult and
soar.
Tonight
        I am awake.
I'm finished with dreaming of paper and
wings.
You can be as determined as you've ever dreamed
Face forward no words, no bullshit, nothing but open
air
You've always been able to expand
your spirit, skin, and bones and
explode
off through the trees and along the horizon
comfortable in flight and overwhelmed with
         ease.

Nude; Weston

Flashing lights at once

following the horizon

steely grey, curving.

Windowseat

Warm textures and soft lights
moving us to reach out
for a dance
another beer
almonds.

Sage-like voices so familiar
urging us to laugh loud
for a moment
another memory
night.

Comfortable perches lending peace
calling us to recall, gently
for a conversation
another realization
ideology.

Provoking tones and tripping notes
warbling us to the sun
for a respite
another escape
holiday.

Earthy smoke engulfing space
shrouding us to better dream
for a time
another joint
subconsciousness.

Joyful in tucked away settings
causing us to pause
for a sense
another sigh
family.

The Dunes

Where am I living, sleeping now, with wall-to-wall speckled gray carpeting?

Wherever you are, I hope that when you lay upon the floor
you don't feel so alone, with no concept at all of home.

That when you close your eyes there is a definitive space between the
clouds
that is your base; foundation; floor.

There is no bitter emptiness leaving you to plummet to distant sands
grasping to catch yourself with wisps sliding through your hands.

Through my spirit what I see is as we once dared to perceive. The door is fluid--
and opens up despite the building, ever golden granules preventing it's progress.

Clouds sneak through although I've never asking for any less;
dreams never die then, but drift beyond the door.

I'm pulled as I lay here, on the floor.

Sold

Pressing palms against
dirty glass,  and scraping fingernails at
sticky adhesive
    peeling for decades
all the while twisting permanently resistant
doorknobs
cool to the touch.
           We can't get through, it seems.            
Observing a pyramid      
that's been in the works
for six long years
    stone by pricey stone, the fantasy crescendos
outside these old window frames
and panes inside the door
you have become consumed
    in the fashion that sunlight glances off your blocks
and blinds our peeping eyes
you don't want us to see
you cannot turn around
    because looking through the glass-
to the truth behind our whited pupils-
you'd glimpse the faulty foundations
the cracks in each weighty stone
    the structurally flawed design that reaches heaven
only through this imperfect glass
and from behind our familiar eyes
can you see that this whimsical life you've built
    is destined to become your tomb.

I fell in love in a letter
a series of words
I can’t stop leaning
tripping towards
old boxes with your handwriting
folded up scraps with your stroke
I fell in love in a letter
I’m still in love with what you wrote.

August

He’s sweating and cursing behind me
Part of me wants to believe he’s been upset all day
because I’m leaving
but he’s just realizing now that she will be leaving him
too.

The brick, ivy, and viridescent grass are ahead
my breath catches and eyes, unbelievably well.
I’ve wanted this moment
for as long as I can remember and the doors are
open.

I’ve had this dress picked out for years now
down to the french knot collar, and a-line skirt
because I knew
that I would get to a place where I would feel
beautiful.

My leather sandals slap faster on the pavement
and I’m paces ahead, feeling my life rushing inside my ears
gripping a new key
the paper envelope it sits inside is crumpled, I’m holding on so
tight.

I’ve arrived, finally and completely
where I’m supposed to become whoever I am.
Less than whole,
Nonetheless, I thrown everything down. I throw it
down.

We grin as we begin to place sheets, paintings
bits of our lives we throw onto the walls, picking up pieces
from the floor.
Flitting across the hardwood and beginning our lives
together.

Home

Their hands weren’t smooth
prominent old veins rose from
strong weathered skin
his were dark, thick, stubby nails
    meticulously kept short, filed
hers were pale, long, delicate
a slyly chipping french manicure.
Every other night these hands
    with what I found to be quiet joy
every other night one set
would grip the thick, cracked wooden handle
crushing cloves in twos and threes
    fracturing thick peel and skin
and I’d watch as the almost viscous
juices dripped on plastic board
tilt my head towards the tiled counter
    to try and catch the sharp, pungent scent
as it finally broke free.
    Standing fast from my place on the floor
as the minced flesh slid into a pan.
Oils graced with this battered allium
crackled, clapped and sighed with such wonder.
    I ached for garlic.