Monthly Archives: November 2012


“…I’m cutting myself
into pieces…”, she said
part realization, part confession

she studied her reflection
strange, distorted
in her lukewarm tea, leaves
floating in and out of focus,
muck at the bottom

the furrow in her brow
matched my own
a confirmation

“…that’s what I’m doing…”, she said
hand-selected, neatly packaged
the binding ribbon
for each man’s desire

“…into pieces…”, she said

nobody’s whole
no one’s only


That Place

Like yours, these doors
stay closed
with raking nails and
screaming on the other side
you see
I’m injured
just like you, a need

comfort of patterns, habits
apart into crumbs, not even
jagged edges to wound
just dust

Guarded, we crave
for the survival of soul
to connect, to comfort
the release drawn out

May we find strength
in each other, to surrender
to break in two
tortured torrents
I’m tired
giving in, if you’ll take me
bloody, pleading
silently between words

I know you’re there.

She Rises

Out later than she
should have been, pale white moon slides
sleepy into bed.

She stirs too early
even in the dark, wet months
this persistent dawn.

I wake up alone…
damn silence, no distractions…
why are you not here?

New chill, this slide toward winter,
I trap my heat, sheets tucked
around my naked form.

Another and yet
another day, a slow leak
Life bleeds out of me.

Sleepy warm skin
before I rise, dress in my armor,
sunken heart wide open and
to fill it with love.

Every morning, the same
new flame of hope
snuffed out
by the cold breeze in your wake.

If you’ll offer no
light to see my path, no
heat to warm my bones, I will
rub these words together
into flames.

Early rise, before
Day erases, rewrites how
said it would be.

Supported In Nature

morning blooms
Maxfield Parrish sky.

Box of autumn crayons highlights
the hills behind my house
come, my love,
let us walk.

Leaves glow
in the low saffron sun.

Clouds dip their
toes into the bay–
shades of slate.

A storm approaches
I lean into blustery north winds
sting my cheeks
thawed by salty tears
I stand rooted
every swirling gust rids me
of the static in my mind
I lean in
supported in nature.

Full moon, nightlight
I see my path
through the darkness.

Submitted for OpenLinkNight #70 at