Thursday, April 20, 2017

Pretty Girl

I long to recall
the sweet vibrations
of your voice
as your lips
grazed my ear.
The weight of my heart
and your arm around me.
The filtered lenses
of your eyes
in which you saw me.
I long to forget
the ache
of your steel toe boots
against my stomach.
The lie
of the little house
we'd live in.
The love that
you left me with.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Aim of the arrow

I imagine this is fate
fighting against the vindictive winds.
Let the raw air fill your lungs.
Let the sleet sink in
to the heather gray hood.
Looking down
at the dark, wet spots
melding together
across the top of your boots.
You walk in the footsteps
of what remains
of my faded apparition.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

tilt shift

Bright light burn.
Back brain ache.
Black spot vision.
Night rest theft.
Thin wrist twist.
Stealthy bones.
Brittle soul.

Belong to me.

Friday, February 1, 2013


I am one
you are the other.
we are equally 
the same,
we are equally
Troubled by 
the loneliness,
the vastness.
Impassioned by
the insignificant nothings
that pass by along
the edge 
of blue and brown irises.
The highway lights.
The dead rivers.
The flight.
The fire.
The new.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Where are we,
if we are not alone?
nestled in the nooks
of heart valves
owned by lovers
and friends.
Palms together,
under our cheeks,
chin tipped down,
knees tucked up
and ankles crossed.
Eyes closed
as the familiar beating
rocks us
what it feels like
to be alone.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

(even though I'm allergic)

I miss the yellow taxi turmoil
and the dependable foyer
of the West Side Highway
I miss takeout Tuesdays
underneath the Brooklyn Bridge
and the out of this world scent
of fresh baked bread in paper bags

Monday, December 24, 2012


How far can empathy go? The path has run short of comfort and fell into insignificance. There are no such binding of words to mean more than pipe-blown smoke. Presence is my only offering. And the assurance that I will never deny grieving with lies of "good intention"