whole

when women woo
the men they turn a runnin’
to wide-eyed girls
who know a nothin’

hallucinatory naps after the longest night

had a dream of
sweet words written

woke to find
I’m still

the only one
semi-kinda-sorta

almost smitten

“I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush” ~ R.E.M.

she can be no other than who she is OR this shit don't rhyme

she's the girl the husbands call on a night their wives are distant
she's the girt the young men visit on a night their heart needs a listen

she's the girl that gives her love, and learns of them more than any
she's the girl that no on knows nor takes the time to see

she's the girl that never gets naught but brief interlude on their path to another
she's the girl that knows what boys like, their dick needs a kissn'

"Your body for my soul, fair swap, cause cheap is how feel..." ~ Cowboy Junkies

near water she breathes deep

on a gray
morn the lake mists split
only by the drumming tattoo
of her heart thrumming
to the moan deep pounding
of a goth synth pop

Daisy Chain for Satan ~ My Life in a Thrill Kill Cult

realizations in the quiet of winter

it’s cold
not just the night
the pit her heart dug

and even
the swoon of love she sought
was naught but dreams

and her heart dug deeper

“Making love out of nothing at all” ~ Bonnie Tyler

he has me writing poetry

I want to consume you in white
pulsing embers and sweetness

softly
slowly
quietly

"I'm dancing barefoot, heading for a spin..." ~Patti Smith

shout

she's held
close her lover's list
nigh on sixteen years
and the interludes 'tween
grown longer

three years
since the last
of a few weeks
of attention
mildly given

she's enthralled
suddenly
she wants it all
suddenly

here I go and I don't know why, I flow so ceaselessly, could it be he's taking over me

catching fire momentously
uncomfortably

the flicker ebbs and flows
dies and flares

into embers, she retreats

her truth a slow burn
beneath the coals

lasts once lit

walk it back

their story
to ether passed

target

approaching Yule
the wild hunt
pre(a)y
Odin

let her bow be mighty

the fuck I know?

I
deeply she sighs
in a moment's hesitation
in a stillness fragile

II
She tried to turtle up
got stuck, head in hole halfway

III
she holds
     her heart
     where it wants

IV
head, heart, and hoohaw
in jello wrestle
we know who the winner is

eighth dimension blues

holding space
holding breath
vacant rooms

and the wonder of sleeping dogs in the daytime

on a gray morning she ponders retreat

holding space in a vacuum
she can only breathe so long

caged

in Shadow

Mouse sings
as if the birds weren’t more beautiful

she trills
despite a life tinged with sorrow

softly, slowly deeply
Mouse hold her heart close
though her body craves

stillness

in the span of days

stillness

purposefully and without notice

halts the winter heart

in limbo suspended

unencumbered

uncomfortable

and glorious

goodbye ruby tuesday

with the expectation of loss
she loves
temporal and transient

this allows 
for the unconditional
giving she gives 

deeper is the knowing
currency of admissions
she holds safe

as she listens

never alluding that everything 
she does
she thinks, is tinged
with sorrow

and hope
someday

some heart will cling
more than a brief while


"She roll back down to the warm soft ground, laughing to the sky..." Dog and the Butterfly, Heart

in one year

ashes shipped
state to state
interred in third

in one year

my older sister
who is younger than I

"We're gonna rock down to Electric Avenue" ~Electric Avenue, Eddy Grant

green-deep crush

lichen damp

‘cross moors

hard

wood

slow to burn

embers woke

She

desires

fifteen and thirty-four

when it comes to

affairs of the heart

that girl
she remains
fifteen and thirty-four

not where she
was supposed to be

yet aware of the world

mooring

gone are they

the holders of her past;
to ash one or two
to dust the other

one still walks about
never to reach
and the final?

new recollections
immersed is he in making

while she wanders
loose in the world


"Here I go when I don't know why
I spin so ceaselessly..." ~ Dancing Barefoot, Patti Smith

on husbands and brothers of which she has neither

sieved through

too loose a grasp

she held to

frayed strands

and she gave

none too gently

handled was her heart

 never beloved

always wrung

and she gave

the balance always

your way tipped

and she gave

beloved she held

you till the giving

turned to the dying

and she gave to him

her last care

words she writ

words she writ
once in a while

poet she labeled
her near miss

of articulating
passions and griefs

on a gray day she reaches

to recall
she reaches

back into the abyss where
she parsed,
detached to feel
intense

too brief an interlude
never she got to know
never she divulged
never she smithed
words for you

to the hours lost
is the meeting
the parting

yet familiar
is the weight of you
her response
your coming
your going

newly sweet
is the lingering
is the knowing

pause

sweetly
in this moment
with every-one
in their as-is place
and out the window
every-thing
is still
in the grasp of fall

"wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile..." ~Sweet Jane, Cowboys Junkies

same shit different day

in the bones
behind the eyes
lies
sleep unrealized

GenX

and music was-is
everything
to the lost

and we danced
wild abandon
snubbing
them that held too fast

the betweens
glossed and forgot
on the road winding
we became

discovered
discussed
divulged

and the music was-is
in us found