Lovers
Discarded like so many
Mardi Gras trinkets
after the parade.
See where the petals blue and black
nuzzle each other’s curves
curves that fit together
like hill and sky
Larkspur offers stems that bear
weight hold hollyhock
to earth encourage hedonism
of leap and gambol pulsate
and shiver
when wind strikes
Hollyhock brings a starfish-
shaped galaxy in layers of algae
rosette cloud blaze
steadies center
for larkspur’s entry
into its umbra and flash
There is a moment in between
where a tendril of shiraz
curls into shadow—
a crepuscular pause
before the delusion of two
shatters
into shards of night
Palpable portent
grinding friction pulls harder
upon soft wet hands
Stunning confusion
anatomy of a crash
releasing tension
Forceful fluids blend
bouncing heads jerking wildly
dripping sweat comforts
crushed
exhausted
hopeless
beaten-down
shattered
utterly heartbroken
drowning in debilitating pain
and heart-wrenching despair
all because
he said he couldn’t see me
today
Canada Geese squawking their discontent
glide by in formation. The barge’s
progress stately, warm rust colors reflected,
a Mediterranean glow. The presence
of the river large and immediate.
At any time I could submerge myself,
the cold water surrounding me, entering
every orifice. We’d become one. Great
blue heron flaps by, shadow below.
Some-
times
all
I need
is
to read
the
menu:
lin-
gui-
ne,
to-
ma-
toes,
on-
ion,
pine
nuts,
black
ol-
ives,
gar-
lic,
white
wine,
goat
cheese.
Vines overtake a gilded cage,
By all accounts silver once,
Open and without captive,
Little more than trellis now.
Ever circled by darling corvid,
In search of lovely day and soft night,
We’ve crossed an ocean of red silk.
This new land will be a cathedral,
Before beautiful gaze;
Where flourishing is norm and not rare reward for conquest.
think vomit
think tongue protuding, head back, straight up
gagging at the thought;
think nausea and fear,
charybdian churn in the basement
floor of existence.
think oxblood cheeks, sneaker squeak
with the quick turn towards the bathroom;
think unfathomableness
I capture things with glass
and sensation,
moments, ephemera, delta,
and have for quite some time–
from the beginning I obsessed
over apple-crisp pixels, limits of resolution
and the placement of focus, to this day
agonizing over each and every alteration, and,
once done, never pleased,
critical eye scrying just overhead,
listing every misfocused millimeter, unable
to think
I could ever be seen
as quality
I ask myself,
“How much
hurt
is too much
hurt?”
But on the tails
of a hundred
heartbreaks,
I keep coming back
to you.
She checks my unconscious search history.
-death by coconut how common
-cabbage side effects
-rats in jackets
-cute dogs
-dogs for adoption
-josh brolin alcoholic interview
-how to make yourself clean your house
She has counter-transference.
