Saturday, February 27, 2010

y's taste like rain

his name
tastes like cedar
or how cedar might taste
if you ever tasted it.

yours is more like air
flavored water
nothing with a little
vague and soft
in the background.

nouns are rich
verbs spice
to adjective's sweet

conjunctions taste like
sips of juice
between breaths

but there are some words
that explode
from your lips
like music
made into letters.

i love you.

Monday, February 22, 2010

greatest love story never told

I could write a love story of epic proportions. There could be beaches and sunsets and lines of seashells right out of a Nicholas Sparks novel. There could be monologues and build ups with explosive climaxes.

There could be a wild misunderstanding and some screaming. A few jokes, some betrayal, and even an airport chase scene. 

I could write about beautiful people with beautiful proportions. Vices that are only ever endearing and misunderstood bad boys who only ever wanted a second chance. I could use allegories and alliterations and symbolism and intertwine them with adjectives to make a thesaurus proud.

It might end with some amazing revelation and passionate embraces. Kisses so perfectly choreographed that it makes you wonder how the trueness of their love was ever doubted. 

No matter how it ended, where they went, what they said. Who the characters were or what they did. 

No matter what I wrote, it would still be me and you. Sitting three feet away from each other on the couch, an arms length that stretches longer than either of us can reach.

Sunday, February 21, 2010


it's been awhile
i miss your smile
you turn the dial

and now i'm done.

i don't need nobody

and i don't fear nobody.

and i don't call nobody but you.

((nothing mine.))

Saturday, February 20, 2010

thirty-nine thousand, four hundred eleven

when she waits for you
in the dark,
she wraps her arms around herself
fingers pressing into
the concave places between ribs.

she pretends her fingers
are yours,

she curls into herself
when the sun starts to rise.

there is no beauty in it.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

broken as heloise

cold convents and unreturned love letters.

i worry constantly

that i'm not half as good as everyone thinks i am.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

in utero

mama cried for days when you left

the ash faded, but 
the trails from her nails stayed,

she still cooks supper for three
when she only eats for two
and the left over food is always
a dull ache

low in the pit
of her stomach.

where you were. where i am. 


you were my beautiful mistake

pomegranate juice tasted like
love on your fingertips

i played music across your spine
sweet harmonies in soft sheets
your fingers in my hair 
made the bass

sliding, sliding

tripping. falling.

silent music aches
in your ears once it's gone.

you were such a beautiful mistake.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

here i am

this is me.

look at me.

here i am.

((actually mine again.))

cold enough for gloves

her hands were never meant to be held in summer.

((picture's mine this time.))

Monday, February 15, 2010

he runs his fingers

down the spine of the book
and pretends that it's yours.

((photo not mine.))

Thursday, February 11, 2010

could you hear me one more time?

and put your fingers on my spine.

((image and lyrics not mine.))

Saturday, February 6, 2010

green-eyed girl

with henna'd fingers.

i watched her pray all night.

Friday, February 5, 2010

ah, michigan.

i can't say it was love. maybe we'll be better off as friends.

food was all right though.

and the company was great.

Monday, February 1, 2010

i'm on a death trip, baby

i love my little baby like i love my old machine.

men i love