Posts for 2024 (page 60)

which is
a hell of a lot harder
to do
while still living
on the earth

some sins
should not be
so swiftly forgiven

some promises
are better off
being broken

drunk words
are sober thoughts

i’m sorry
but you have to deny her
what she was
                    (supposedly)
looking for
this whole time

you can’t move on
or forward
without first
detaching

she will have to bring you back
if she so chooses

she knows her heart
she knows her flaws 
she knows what she keeps hidden

and you will not break that
you will not find
what you want here

simply put
you have to give up
on earth*

*Title and last lines taken from Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones.

sweating shaking to write
i just have
to be honest & it will turn
out alright put some children’s voices
on the track & turn
some wellbred men into        empaths
where does the writing
come from what does it 
want from me how
can i give it that
there used to be secrets
in gum wrappers but now
they’re black & void
i want to know more
than i ever have before
but knowledge dies
with you if you never
do anything about it
theory face mask lip mask
shaving cream body lotion
slather words everywhere
pretend to know what they
mean or where meaning
comes from in the first
place oh settle down Adam & Eve
sentience hasn’t killed most of us
yet

summer is not lonely
all markets & festivals & fairs
raucous and ripe
the season teems and glares 

though
I’d rather
it shrink
me small

                    enough
        to fill the curve of another’s body
        for the cup of a hand
        for someone to swallow
                me whole

You don’t have to be sure.

Hold my cup
in the moonlight
dancing
screaming
singing
sick of sweet at seventeen
lovergirls and boys
hold my hand
tell me I’m dreaming
glitter on the floor
Play pretend
find me in the hysteria

On our anniversary, 
a hundred miles away,
we send each other
memes and videos on Facebook. 

We awkwardly try to

get comfortable

on the bed.

The subtle dominance

of you

hovering over me,

me open to

whatever might happen,

ready to go with it,

shivering with possibility.

You kiss my neck,

a dead bedroom

coming back to life

after years.

Your lips

lovingly and passionately

explore me,

your hands

touching me everywhere,

my body hungry for all of it,

bliss coursing through my veins.

I feel loved,

cherished,

wanted,

desirable.

I touch myself

then guide your hand

to touch me

as we kiss,

as you nibble my ear,

as you kiss my chest.

This is what I needed,

to wade in the shallow end

before we go deeper

another night.

Maybe this is all I need

sometimes,

the simple pleasure

of kisses and touches

and being with you,

the rediscovered sensuality

of gentle foreplay.

Your rekindled desire

is a gift

i look forward to opening

again and again.

watching a mind
slide one millimeter
at a time until
one day you see it has
wandered far away

jumping puddles
without umbrellas barefoot
blinded by the rain

A little dark rabbit with tall ears

jumps onto the back of the gazebo,

a weathered gray in contrast, 

and runs to the front, hops with practiced

grace onto the white rock path, pauses,

then begins running circles in the flower bed

in and out of view among the lilies, bee balm,

yarrow, milkweed, then back through the gazebo, 

makes an abrupt stop, stands on hind legs,

looks about, then takes off running again, 

loop after meandering loop, forward 

then backward, over and over. Speedy 

Gonzales. Perhaps there are two.

I stand watching, a good 20 minutes.

All that energy, only one little rabbit. 

My favorite thing at the cusp of a new season
is to listen to Vivaldi’s interpretation 
and let the musical pictures fill my mind
while looking out at my modern cirucumstances

It sends chills up my spine as I see and hear
similar scenes converge and my senses are overwhelmed
The birds outside are singing as the birds
in the music are chirping merrily

It makes me wonder where he was when he wrote
such a stunning work of art.
Was he inside at his desk, or was he out in a
field of flowers, birds, trees and bees?

As the music turns more frantic, the scene outside
my window is still serene, but I can still feel
the peace of the day, even in the active movement
of the exquisite musical masterpiece

I wonder if he knew that his creation
would be enjoyed for centuries to come
and bring peace to the hearts
of more people than can be counted.