unfinished

Do you remember the time that we

Yesterday I learned that my grandmother

I went to the dentist and they told me

and she said, "Oh, my god, I love your

I was thinking that maybe

He actually yelled out

I emailed him and

And then my mother came and

I had bought you a

And it was so huge!

I got a new

You'll never believe it I just

I remember you saying

When I drove there

I can't find the

At the grocery store there was

Last night the dog

and it made me think of you.


You left me with so much unfinis

recipe for falling out of love

Ingredients:
1 c.    selfishness (can substitute with "I'm not happy")
1/2 c.  misplaced desire (can substitute with emotional immaturity)
1/2 T.  cold cruelty (can substitute with lack of trying)
2 pts.  salted delusion (can substitute with "this is not my life")
1/4 t.  unsweetened lies (sometimes sweetened are too obvious)
1 pkg.  human body (amount relative to desired quantity/servings)

Directions:
remove conscience from body and discard

score the heart until dry
stew, stirring continually as it fully softens
let dry
(repeat until satisfied with texture)

set aside heart 

parboil lies in conversation (should only be partially tender)
blanch with sex
caramelize physical attraction
remove from heat quickly (don't let it sit too long)

fold into:
a pinch of lust
a smidgen of sadness
a dash of hope
(this keeps pockets of unwanted air from taking over the mix)

julienne feelings of trust and certainty and disperse throughout
cut in commitment (you don't want too much)
mince desire so that you can't tell what it is anymore
add everything to mix and dredge with sugar

garnish with true love
serves two

Important note to remember: 
the only cure for love is
to let yourself fall in love with someone else

painted woman

I painted you
mingling mediums on a mixed palette of pride and pain
a patchwork picture of my past
to cover your blank page

rumbling rage to redden your brow
an open orange and honest face
white wine to touch your wanting lips
ghost gray in the eyes

a golden hope lightens your hair
violet vanity veils your face
charcoal knuckles of candid confidence
turquoise tongue tainted with truth

pale skin, unripened peach
brownish back, the color of fruit turned rotten

pink pores of passion
green groin of guilt
yellow marrow
black bones of silvering shame

I painted you
with every color on my palette
each drop of my blue blood formed your crimson soul

I painted you - beautiful.

you peeled yourself from the parched paper

go.

go.
live.
you do not need me anymore

afraid

"Tell me what you are afraid of;
It will tell me who you are."

I fear being wrong.
I overcompensate with confidence.
I live boldly into whatever comes my way
because I fear being wrong.

"Tell me what you are afraid of;
It will tell me who you want to be."

I value knowledge, but what can I ever really know?
perception, recognition, certitude...
direct cognition? no.
I fear that I know nothing for certain.

"Tell me what you were afraid of,
and it will tell me why..."

I was a afraid of her uncertainty.
It made me impotent, emotionally numb,
I fear it even now.

"Tell me what you are afraid of;
It will tell me who you are."

I do not know what I am afraid of.

the pit

I am climbing out of the pit
a nostalgic clutter of retrospection
of remorse
intuiting

There is a past that never happened
a future that never existed
you and I are there
dreaming

I extend my arm over my shoulder
clutching clods of broken stone
and scale the rocky cliff
grasping

They tell me there is light above my head
I am looking down
into the abyss
longing

Liquid drips from my hands and wrists
grated and scraped, rasped, cut
my life bleeds to the ground
falling

"Keep moving" comes the vociferating cry
my ears chase the sound
a skyward voice
calling

The walls are tight, I am constrained
my body bowing in the in-between
I am floating
hanging

melancholy and mirth

You do not miss my love, My Love.
You do not miss my love.

I close my eyes and see you here
you're lounging on the couch
the computer screen makes you laugh
unquestionably louche

I gaze at you half-knowingly
your pleasure's my delight
you glance my way, feeling my stare
and bruise me with your sight

You do not miss my love, My Love.
You do not miss my love.

I see you in each passing car
In stranger's faces, hair
I look for you where e're I go
Knowing you are not there

Of all the lovers in my life
I'd placed you far above
trusted you with my fragile heart
yet you never think of

my love, My Love.
do you not miss my love?

I still desire your love,
My Love,
but you don't miss my love.

a word

a word
one word
is all you seek
a word to shape your soul

you open mouth, eyes, ears, and mind
receive whatever comes

a word
one word
a form of speech
with which to build a home

a place where masks can be removed
a place to write your tome

a word
unique
an utterance 
perhaps this is the one

abstraction, image, notion, thought
your labor's never done

a word
one word
from whence it comes
may matter all the more

for deep within it shall emerge 
the other words ignored

to speak
a word
you must unlock
your lips, reveal your place

until you can release your fear
no one can see your face.

My love,
Psyche,
Oh Butterfly,
Why have you flown so far?

Afraid to face the ugliness
and show me who you are.

movement

There is love in the world.
It tells me I am beautiful.
I am wanted.

Unbinding burial dressings fall.
There is movement.
My feet dance.

I rise with Maya Angelou
and breathe the moment with Margaret Atwood.

I give ode to pity with Jane Austen
and remembrance with Emily Bronte.

I let the turtle go with Mary Oliver,
I let go of our whole life with Adrienne Rich.

I have found them and with them I am found.
There is love in the world and it tells me I am beautiful.
I am not alone.

unbeautiful sunset

I can feel the finality in the pit of my stomach today.
Hands trembling for want of food.
Throat sere; eyes a drought.

you. are not. coming. back.

This is an ending.
An unbeatuiful sunset on a tenure of dreams.

I give you my future that the day might rest.
Tomorrow is no longer mine.

I will sleep without the whisper of your breath upon my neck.
I will wake and rise with no lips to graze my cheek.

I will not let love whither under your gallows any longer.
My soul will not be snuffed by the squall in your wake.
I will wind with the morning wind, with the new gale of a rising sun.

And someday soon I will forget to remember
that you are not coming back.

I will forget to remember
you are not coming back.

monster

when we loved did you grow smaller
when we laughed did a part of you die
was my joy your hell
your delight, my pain

you are a monster
invisible and ever-present
threatening and mute
you are sinister
you are ugly

beware, Oh the beautiful
her pleasure is to frighten
intentionally, deliberately
you are dangerous
you are deathly

I live in a wordless world
a saturated silence
all is quiet, sickeningly still
but my ears can hear you screaming

i would have listened

I would have listened to every word you spoke
waiting as you cleared your throat
watching you choke out your fears
letting you cry, drawing you near

I would have listened if you asked me to
searching eyes to know its true
biding as you gave your speech
said "I'm sorry," kissed your feet

I would have listened to anything you said
craving thoughts inside your head
even if you were a jerk
wishing I could stop the hurt

I would have listened if you opened your mouth
but your tight-lipped frown won out
"I'm sorry... I have to go..."
Three years, and that's all I know

far away

You feel so far away.
Not distance.
Not space.
It's in the wanting.

Where has your wanting gone?
Have you given it to someone else or are you keeping it for yourself?
Does keeping it make you feel strong?

desire for... without you mine is incomplete...
You don't want me where you are
but where you are is what I want.

lost

I feel lost.
Like I don't know my way.
Certain only of my love,
but uncertain why.

Where do I go from here?
The signs are unrecognizable to me.
The earth gives way under my feet,
am I sinking?

I feel alone.
Like I don't know myself.
Certain only of my love,
but uncertain why.

Where do I go from here?
The signs are unrecognizable to me.
The earth gives way under my feet,
am I falling?

I feel empty.
Like I have nothing left to give.
Certain only of my love,
but uncertain why.

I keep walking.
I know not where.
Certain only of my love.

commitment

I still have it.
I can't bring myself to give it up
        yet.
It means something,
something I don't understand.

I haven't seen it since you left.
It's in a black box tucked away.
I remember it when people laugh,
when they smile and are happy.

Today I found it in my mind,
felt the weight of it in my hand,
looked on as it glistened,
until the water ran cold and my toes wrinkled.

I can find it in the shower,
when I hold my own arms.
That means something,
something I don't understand
        yet.

the kiss

I no longer remember your kiss.
I can see your lips, thick and soft.
I know firm pressure and the taste of coffee,
but I can't remember what it feels like.

I no longer remember the smell of your hair.
I can see your curls, thick and soft.
I know the wet pillowcase and the scent of fresh,
but I can't remember what it smells like.

I no longer remember what the poem read.
I can see the paper, white half-sheet and blue hotel crest.
I know you told me that you love me,
but I can't remember why.

I no longer remember the touch of your hand
the tight grip of fingers

I no longer remember the kiss of forehead, the nuzzle of nose

I cannot see your eyes.
It is dark.

I lean in.
I cannot see your eyes.

reflection

unattractive
undesirable
unwanted

controlling and territorial
helplessly hopeful
oblivious

too tidy
too bodily
too confident

too present
too attentive
too detached

"I was never in love with you."
"I'm attracted to someone else."
"It's a symptom not the reason I..."

a fearful anger
a naive generosity
a beautiful foolishness

I squint into the glass
and try to see myself reflected in your eyes

I am afraid.

memory

i've lost my grip
you slip away
no tears of mine were shed today.

brittle paper
and inkless pen
no ripped remembrances to mend.

i cannot cry
i will not bleed
no one is here to hear me to plead.

the walls are cracked
with empty frames
they do not dare to speak your name.

tomorrow comes
today will go
another night you will not know.

i am still here
my love unchanged
exposed by ardent burning rage.

you lost your grip
you walked away
these lies will tangle you one day.

to loneliness

there is no hope
there is no saving this
you decided it.

I am surrounded by ugliness
burning things and smoldering memories
the air is pungent and weak

you are hideous
you are death
there is no life in you

no words can reach you
no body can warm you

you are cold
you are wretched
you are excrement

my perception has changed
you have changed me
i am forever new

to hate

I've been circling around the word for weeks
a vulture, conservative and chary
scaling and skimming the air, sliding and gliding toward you

Is the body still fresh?
Is she breathing?
are you alive?

weak and woozy from the dive
I soar upward beyond all reach
the stench rises with me

you are dead and rotting
grotesque irregular curves
devious, sinuous, torturous

a carcass impressed upon memory
scorched into skin
I cannot escape it

I see you waking and sleeping
leave me alone.
I do not want you.

the naked more

orange paint.
gray ink.
I draw your hips round.

shoulders soft
concave back arched
neck thin and light

waves of blond and straight brown clumps
blue eyes, the color of bruising.
bulbous bottom
ballad cheeks

feeble fingers fondling
full lipped
fallen face
freckled shoulder

legs thick
stomach strong
skin pocketed smooth
rough, tight, and sagging

and then there is flesh.
the naked more.
I long for you.

dry and tepid
numb

orange paint.
gray ink.
I draw my hips next to yours.

beauty

koi ponds and thick patches of wild flower
wood burning stoves
poetry

"Chant the beauty of the good," she says.

incense
candle light
groans that come like prayers

"Chant the beauty of the good," she says.

a gentle voice and concerned gaze
the kiss of lips, a knowing moue
tight grip of hand

"Chant the beauty of the good," she says.

the cool breeze of autumn air
idle walks in warm sweaters
a serendipitous song

I chant the beauty of the good
and wait to learn what others have learned before me

I can almost ...

who is this skin

my dreams have changed
love enfolded in rage
recognition
of your carelessness
of your naivety
of apathy
of guilt

like a child playing Russian roulette
the revolver aims at my chest
senses heightened
I can smell the rush of your adrenaline high
my palms sweat tears
I feel only terror

"I win
you lose
game over
now we both need to heal"
you whisper

recognition
of your carelessness
of your naivety
of apathy
of guilt

a hand brushes against my flesh
is this my hand?
what once was soft to touch
grows thick callous
forming over a deep wound

I don't recognize my own skin

fantasy

Last night you came into my dreams.
"I'm coming back," you said.
"I love you."

The crease on your forehead,
the teary blue eyes,
asked me how I could have ever doubted you.

fantasy
longing
sanity

I want to go back to sleep.
My dreams protect me from the truth.
For the first time in weeks I awoke after the sun had risen.

fantasy
longing
sanity

Come to me again tonight.

blue-nude

Your body is beautiful.
I nuzzle my nose into the slight twist of your spine as you undress for bed.

"hold me," you would say as you rolled to the other side of the mattress.
You asleep in my arms was always my favorite time of day.

I feel your shoulders pressed against my chest.
My stomach bends to you.
You are smooth and warm.

A hand rests above your navel
gripping at sheets below your breast.
I hold you tightly.
I breathe in your hair.

Your silhouette is lit by streetlights slanted through blinds.
I am spellbound by the curve of your torso.

I love your back.
I never knew that seeing it meant that you had turned away.

pain

My pain is real.

I touch it
when I pull a strand of hair from my sweater.

I hear it
clinging to roads and reverberating off of restaurant walls.

I smell it
in the fabric of a house that is not my home.

I whisper it
to my tea and toast.

I see it
when there is no light
though it is not here.

My pain is real.
I can feel it
climbing into my bones
draining blood
emptying the stomach.

My real is pain.

grief

Rain spattered on a windshield.
The drip of a car muffler.
When I drive they come.

They come when I lay down.
Mascara-smudged sheets.
Cold toes wrapped twice in blankets.

Flowing down cheeks into mouth and nose.
Dropping to wooden floors.
Staining clothes.

I am drenched with grief.

He is a thief that steals my days.
Collecting time and keeping it for hours.
He scatters it about the house.
Scribbled paper, thinning photographs.

The faucet leaks into the tub.
The steam rises to cover a body soggy with misery.
Saline soaks my soiled skin.

I am clean. I am clean.

home

home.

The smell of shampoo on a pillow case.

home.

Hauerwas, Stringfellow, Wittgenstein, Wells...

home.

A forgotten mug, an empty glass.

home.

The clutter of unwanted mail, post-it-notes, and cookie crumbs.

home.

Macy's bags and Banana Republic receipts.

home.

Grapes and goat cheese, strawberry smoothie, peanut butter toast...

home.

I drive southwest in the rain for miles.

home.

I can't find you.

vanishing

Time moves slowly. It flays my skin with every word you never speak. 

Am I disappearing?

The ink beneath my flesh bleeds onto each page: truth and love. truth and love.

If not yours, what words will form me today?

The poet enters into herself to create...

Whom shall I enter into to be created...

desire

She saw you naked when you were fully clothed. Your eyes and lips gave her everything.

Unpacking boxes I found your mortar and trowel hidden underneath my pajama pants. You bought them for me last winter. Don't you remember? Or are you too busy building walls?

She sees you each day that my eyes are hidden from you. Woos you with her smile and wrinkly eyes.

Your emotions are a tree swaying in the wind.  You give yourself to her words as you gave yourself to mine. Your leaves flutter. Your fruit ripens. You reach for the sun. Desire. Desire.

My world is a cloud. The graying flood of rain pools my love into muddy puddles of wretch and want. I choke on my tears to stay alive.

Keep breathing.
desire. desire.
Keep breathing.

tethered

I was born inside of you. Conceived by desire and poetry. Nursed by your mind, weened only when the tether was cut.

I am hungry.

Does your stomach still growl?

I bear the wound where our bodies were joined. You bore an abyss where memory falls. There is no ground beneath it. There is no steadying. There is only wet. There is only dry. Will they never meet?

I lay beside the gaping hole and try not to forget.

You surround me.
I am still inside of you.