my lover and I got stuck in a snowy trail  his blue car
couldn’t handle  the   deepness   the cold  and well, there
we found ourselves knocking at the closest door   and
he was saying     “we’re travellers in need of assistance”  and
I’m staring into a white woman’s blank face
trying to look serious
and her husband’s taking an important call, but she assures us he can
help us, if we wait   five   or  ten   or maybe fifteen minutes
so we wait   and then old Mark comes out  all kind with smiles
and he tells us   he’ll bring out his tractor
you and I listen to him  afterwards   talk about the bald eagles on ice
he’d see in Lacrosse, WI  when he was younger

he tells me you’re a keeper
he calls me  your better half

I wish I knew   if he is right

Here we are safe I think,
in the blue box that lets
only the two of us enter.
Here, I think we can speak
to shadows and the moon
comes down just for us,
in our blue box.
Upside down, my hands
against the blue walls,
I am not human. And neither
are you.

She wasn’t the wolf
under the bed or the one
who huffed the three houses
down when the pigs were
asleep. She wasn’t the one
who laid her head down
on that pillow while they
hollered words of
comfort and love. She was the
one who slept quietly
as he touched her feet and
touched her legs
and perhaps
kept her warm
when the drink dizzied
her up and her lips were
numb. I heard her.
And he said he loved her.
And I thought of her feet
very small with five toes
each and I thought
of her breath
her huff caressing
a strand of hair on
her forehead. That soft
inhalation as she felt his
hands between
her toes.

I may have been a doll
when I had tiny shoulders and
you could see the bones of my neck.
And perhaps you too, thought
yourself a sort of extra ordinary
creature who could change
my life. And it was for this
reason that I fell from the shelf
and hit my porcelain head on
the floor and saw my
little hand point towards you.
And I said, “Take me.”
And you said, “How?”
And then with my hand,
I took your hand, and
asked you to wrap your
fingers around my neck.

my greatness is never capitalized, never
existing or full, happy never
there are things i swallow and don’t
chew and walk up and down
without thinking   who are you man
to request a kiss or a handshake
from my prune-like soul   laugh
nicely with a yellow suit on your
shoulder   achieve greatness
for me and
tell me
a story of triumph
or of bruised oranges you liked to eat
before men fell from grace   I’ll listen
here
are you good and is it bad to smile
and have my heart beat fast when
you call me a princess
i told you it was easy
i was always easy
stupid and fickle and wanting and lost
and asking and talking with you of
fishes and the future
greatness is never capitalized  it does not exist
in love
or lust or any other element of the body and spirit
neither does it exist
in these words

Somewhere     where    I   was   not
You shook and pondered over my mean words
Words of jealousy      an insecure     spirit.
You are my best friend and yet
I screamed
I insulted
I spoke of beautiful ghosts and made you
Curious            but more than anything
Sad.
Still, I feel sad too.
But here, we can at least grow.
We can be.
Somewhere    where    I    was    not
You     shook      in another woman’s gaze,
pondered over my mean words,

Our insecure spirits.

my old friend   Kev gave me a call
and strange to believe   that I think it was a mistake
a ****-dial    made at 7pm     for old time’s sake