Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Six Shorts

Cleaning my Inbox after a long time yielded this.
Swooping through
the far coast into the
heartland,  I wait
to turn  home by the bay.
My traverse a wide
Like your smile.
I remember the night
I turned twenty nine
with my womb full 
one half of me lay
cleaved on his side
of our bed. My eyes
turned rosebuds the
day after - tears
offered in prayer.
The night I most
needed your love.
The emptiness of
my workday coils
like a dreary boa
stuffed to the gills
yet loathe to rest. 
On an early day in August
I made a note to myself
To  remain steadfast
In friendship and not let
Eros grime the way. Yet as
Summer turns to Fall I wonder
If sometimes its not just the same.
After many years again
in the feeling of love
or its approximation, I
fight my demons again.
Needing more than being
needed. Trying too hard
to please - to fathom -
to get under the other's
skin. To grow on you like
a graft to be one in soul.
All demons of pain that
I have fought down before.
Where are my lessons in love ?


A wall of tears is building
up like before - and you
do not know to coax the
flood. He did not either.
you sit behind in silence
tell me through data lines
and seventeen hundred miles
that you are well. What of
me  ? What of the words of love
twisted like a taut co-ax ?
Do you care or want to know
what it takes to bring on
the deluge ? Or what that
means to me ? He did neither.
Quietness is inhaled and exhaled
interminable unbearable silence.
I am terse and vivacious
by turn not sure which will dull
the hollow numbing pain. 

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