If a drop of rain falls from
Night-black clouds
You cannot catch it and exclaim
This, this is the piece of you I love
You must stand in that sea of
Droplets
Arms outstretched and
Soaked to the bone, blind and drunk
With sweet dark rain
An inundation of joy and sadness
And everything in between
Only then can you say you not only
Braved the storm
But loved it for its
Every drop

I like my coffee like I like myself
Bitter and full of fake sweetness

She’s a sort of moon person
Pale eyes and paper skin
Translucent
Hair swirling in wisps like clouds
This lunar oddity
She whispers as she writes
She is not kind
A bit cold
A bit distant
But then, so is the moon I suppose

I’m often afraid
Of what I can’t always say
Not knowing is sure to make fear
Multiply upon itself until I cannot
Breathe and my heart races as if it
Can run away despite my body’s
Stillness
Frozen like a rabbit hides from
Slathering wolves
But my wolf is not so solid, its sharp
Teeth and ember eyes change into
Something with which I cannot
Reason
Maybe it is nothing I fear
Dark branches stretching out
Into night drenched
Solitude
Headlights my only solace from the
Dizzy roads and inky stars
What are they hiding, those
Branches
Perhaps wolves, perhaps nothing
I prefer the wolves

Wearing someone else’s coat
Their pictures in the pockets
Makeup on the collar
Maybe it’s too big
Too small
Sometimes other people’s clothes
Just don’t fit right

The crickets and the train
How one sound can take you somewhere
But two sounds takes you fast
The summer air begins to shed its heavy skin
The crickets cry to the cold stars,
Harsh and brilliant
Are they beautiful, or just far away?
The train cries too
But at least the crickets
And the stars have each other
My love sleeps by my side
Deep breaths rise and fall
Another sound, but this one brings
Me back and keeps me from following
That train
Those crickets
Those stars
That sounds wraps me up in its arms
And whispers don’t go
There’s nothing for you there at the
End of summer