she

if a heart could break

vaingloriously

her decline would be the attempt

 

instead I will walkabout

doing the day

with precision and care

only weeping

in the white space; in the air between

moments and breaths 

in dark corners

soon she goes

in the quiet

there is a chill

an exhaustive pulsing

near indiscernible 

felt distinctly

 

my heart

my breath

 

and in the other room she lay

wasting

Chelsea didn't eat today...

She stands

back arched, back legs

shaking 

from the weight of years

refusing food she

walksabout

front room to kitchen 

and there and back again for

sips of water, constantly

looking, searching, constantly

milling about, until

She lurches into 

a laying

inelegant, deeply 

emphatic

a tiny frame thrown into loud thud

 

“I don’t wanna need your love” ~ Stronger by Sorry Girls

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

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

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

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

the expectations of reciprocity

laughter ensued immense
and she walked away
enthused, yet
cursory words lacked depth

no quiet of the mind
came forth, no soul
he follows as she
drifts away

though with this one
she sees bits and buttons
holding parts in place
when he speaks
the lines years etched
at corners
of his eyes, lips
as they move to
speak his heart

she gives without
the expectations of reciprocity

“Once inside, you’re afraid they find nothing to hold on to,” Cowboy Junkies’ Ring on the Sill

dating in 2017 or happy being single

I’m an overly educated kid-free tattooed Agnostic vegetarian born and raised in Texas. I also just turned 47 and I’m not quite sure how the h*** that math happened, but it has, and I’m here, and it’s a good place to be. I love my dogs, my friends, the people I work with. I love my job, my career. I wake up each day excited to get there and do the stuff I do then get home and do what I do at home. Could be Netflix, jigsaw puzzles, tearing something down, or building something up. 

I’m average. I have an average life. I own a car and house, and have dogs that poop. I pay bills, do chores, read books, muck about in the yard. I love to eat and cook and nap and eat again. This sums it up. Nothing fancy, nothing idealistic. I own my own shit, negotiate interest rates like a pro and have little debt. I may not retire until I’m 75 for the sheer fact that my life goal is to be of service. Novel idea, I know, but it’s not all about me, or you. 

I’m a f****** adult. Not sure how that happened either, but it has. I don’t drop everything to travel spontaneously every weekend. I don’t have an endless stream of photos of me drinking in bars. Been there, done that. Travel gets planned; going out, like ice cream, is a treat not a habit. This means that first long drink of an ice cold Shiner along with a big bowl of homemade gumbo on a hot Texas day while chilling with my best friend and surveying my kingdom from the back porch is one of life’s precious moments. Mostly I like to sleep my 9 hours and coo sweetly to my two four-legged loves.

I weigh anywhere between 110 and 120 on any given day depending on how much I eat and was stick thin for so long, this mini-muffintop ain’t going nowhere anytime soon. I’m okay with that. I’m me and looking for a guy who is his own person and not owned by extreme conformity and social norms. Someone who says, “come on, put your cold-ass feet on me, I’ll warm you up” and respects me enough to take out the trash if it’s full without being asked, massage my neck when I have an allergy headache, lay on the couch when he’s sick and act like a big 'ol baby so I’ll bring him soup, because I will.  I will spoil the right guy to no end and when he spoils me I’ll say thank you, and mean it, because the thrill of chivalry and adoration is not dead, and I will not settle for less.

she

In the garden
There was a girl
Amidst a field fallow
Tending roses
Brightly yellow

And where was he
But absent
In the recollection of days
Of tending the home
Of tending the marriage

Life takes effort
She gave for two

now she lives for one

she is learning

She is not the norm

Never was

Confused on how to be

She asks patience

Understanding

(And in falling…?

Having felled?
In some limbo?)

She is learning…

There is no norm

in the garden fertile

It didn’t come on
sudden
I’ve watched it
like a lizard on the ledge
in the sun
admitted to
movement below catching
my gaze half-lidded.

I’ve watched it
growing
in the garden fertile

Drawn by the warmth
and the space
it consumes
a’feared to approach
but the burn may be more stronger
than a little lizard
can coolly
walk on by.