I close my eyes

to feel its softness

like a cool cloth

pressing gently

upon the orbital ridge around my eyes,

the weight

at once present and absent

from lid's creases.

If I open my mouth

it will invade every crevice

available to it,

a potent reminder of its press,

a heft upon

the slim cord of air

trapped between my teeth

as i float

up to the surface.

crimson thoughts
turn themselves inside out
like clothes in the wash

i think about
the long days alone
do i wash these thoughts
like colors together
on delicate

i fear the rip and tear
of loneliness’s unremitting two step
a dance of color
of red

and i ask myself
how did crimson take hold
as the angels dance
and i bob

turned inside out

I have a penchant for sweetness
Sliding between tongue and gum
The cool kind
Not too intrusive
Carrying the fruit of some berry or another
Which slips toward me slowly
In celluloid dreams of my childhood
In sepia tints
Dotted  with the bright reds of summer fruit
Dripping down chin

With the faded blue of skies
Forgotten
In the clean slide of Kodachrome

The fading sepia
Fails to show the whiteness of my toddler hair
Or the shining black curls
Of my father’s head
As he holds me in his lap
And I turn adoring eyes in his direction
Smearing a bright red dot
On his snappy new shirt I suspect

The tint softens the memories
And sets them.
Love, a bloom
Of red promises.

I keep my disappointment in a jar beneath my tongue
and I let it roll around there sometimes
just to see what it tastes like.

Sometimes when I am feeling alone
I take it out,
check its color,
its veneer--
--bright blue lapis.

Today it slides easily
from one side to another
and a coolness seeps out--
cucumber and mint.
It isn't what I expect of disappointment really.
I had thought a bitter flavor,
or spicy,
so I could feel my anger.

Today as it slips and rolls
in its coolness
I wonder if anger will come
or will its coolness soothe~