Posts for June 4, 2021 (page 2)

I left something buried
in the sands of Ormond
twenty-one years ago
where I’d look upon 
these women covered
with ocean salt outlined
by impossibility and wind
something so wild and perfect
shouldn’t exist among a low
fumbling country boy who
had no business being where
he was

in the sand
stared up at the Hale-Bopp
unaware
of those people
far away taking thier lives
in hopes
of finding a home
among the stars
yearning for a place to 
fit 
in

I haven’t felt heartbreak
for a force of nature since
as if someone I loved
lived in the water
and all it would take
is to step in
and find her hand

I hope those people
all those years back
found what they needed
extinguished the depths
of whatever this is 
heaving against my chest

i don’t know why you had to die 
for me to take the advice 
but i’ve finally stopped going to sleep 
with wet hair 

Strip me down naked
as consequence to converse
with your raw tomato.

Flowers in the dark,
tall, painted stalks of lumbering white
—Pineapple (mild).

Heart once filled all pink
as sham rocks chipped at
rosy-red bee-anaphylactic spots.

Icy car until dawn arises
captivating
opaque irises reflected in mine:
a chameleon blue.

You are not alone,
ever;
if not me,
others.

Take the maki rolls.
Your crooked grin, bite bottom
lip. I always win.

Don’t
cut off
your nose
to spite
your face

Slice it off
to bleed
on her
new
white dress.

this approach is miraculous
in how it leaves dirt behind intentionally

a status is never fulfilled
and like a function is fully defined

celebrate the moments we get
as preface to awaking

the morning grass sweats from the night
concrete oozes the day as residue

more often my coin falls with tails upright.

As hard as I try, I can never —

          take myself out of the equation —

                    out of the script —

The page crumpled —

           discarded on the floor —

                   waste basket missed again —

Too short —

           my stretch to find the perfect —

                   something —

Desperately switching —

          from Pen and paper –

                    to speeches spat out —

Hot coffee —

          scalding my mouth —

                   words change everything between us —

This morning words play hide and seek in the mist —

           obscured by low hanging clouds —

                    Until coffee is brewed —

The sound of it —

           rushes in my veins —

                      Neither food nor sustenance —

It focuses me —

            Like the sun reaching out —

                      touching each leaf, each bough —

Until I am of this world again.

Alyse Sammarco
June 4, 2021

You are most yourself when you are floating. 
Your eyes reflect the water, and the sun softens you. 
In the waves you’re the most affectionate, wanting to hold me while I’m weightless. 
When we’re here, we’re back to that very first summer,
Still learning each other while we waste the days at an apartment pool. 
The years are passing, and responsibilities are growing,
But I hope you’ll still pretend to be a mermaid when we’re old.

a decade of wanting an answer:

I have known of nothing but frustration

at the standstill

of life

a child spiraling into adulthood

not knowing how to accept help when it’s readily gifted

and

wondering why they only live in stagnation