I miss you
in the breath
of broken promises
in involuntary verses
of the prose I cannot write

I miss you
in a senseless beat of irony
and the nights that close my eyes
with the truth that strikes the wall
in the calm and the collapse
in the storm that will not pass

I miss you
in a corner of the mind
too often occupied
with involuntary rhymes
and –in all that I cannot write

**** me quietly in the current of the Caspian
That calloused-caviar undertow
Petroleum-pierced fragmented bone
You whispered things no child should know
And I was no child then
Trembling hands I emerge from the lion’s den
Wearing memory like white lines on the insides of my wrists
Until I forget they’re there
Blue eyes, blonde hair
Painted mouth and vacant stare
Here is who I have become

So kiss me quietly in the white-capped waves of the Caspian
My lips a promise sealed in black oil and blood
Hear the water tank trickle fill and flood
See the volcanoes burst with sacred mud
And feel my skeptical smile
Spectacle-clad you read my file
It’s been a while since I relived all of this

And I’m deciding if it’s far too late or far too soon
To begin to deconstruct our interactions
The repulsion, the attraction
The actions and reactions
That defined that interim allotment of time
I sit here now retracing your lines
On the rickety map in the back of my mind
Memory, so mute, so blind
And ripping down the track so quickly
Thrown back so sickly-bitterly
Like salt-lime-tequila

My memory has been mutilated
Slaughtered, drained and skinned
Treated, chopped and trimmed
And now I place it on a table in the street
Tell me, can you hear the pattern of its late heartbeat
As you grip a fleshy dripping pound of it in your hand
My memories are no-man’s land

So caress me carefully in the cool-calm caves of the Caspian
Recall the strange sounds of the early days
Sacred grounds, hot-garbage haze
Sandy winds, the bazaar maze
That made me acutely aware of the incomplete
Not even joyful summer heat
Could keep me from floating feet-up in the Georgian river
Memory smile, convulse and shiver

I intended this to be a reconciliation
Call me queen of counterproductive apology
Let’s redefine astrology
To gain some favour from the stars
Russian salad and white box cars
Deep *** holes in Badamdar
Truthfully I’ve never known who you really are
And I probably never will

But cut me kindly in the clouds above the Caspian
This is as close as we can get
Ignorant prejudice my one regret
But I have not forgotten all the good
And I will try to love you like I should
But tell me, is it better to have memories that lie
Or have nothing at all?
Shall I embrace the distortions or the abyss?
**** me carefully or give me a kiss
Tell me, what am I to do with this?
Cut me open or caress me
Call me child or undress me
Your impassive smile does not impress me
Tell me, how am I to process this?

I’ve swam your sea, I’ve coughed your air
I let you stroke and steal my sandy hair
I left without once looking back
No pillar of salt
No pile of ash
No blame or fault
Or debt or cash
But still the walls begin to crack
I feel the stitches start to tear
Murky-memory drags me eastward by my fresh-grown hair
Forcing my eyes, so-cold and ever-blue ever deeper into you,
the dark heart of the Caspian

It makes you stronger, doesn't last longer, I get that.
But what am I supposed to do with this load of sadness right now?

Take time
to wrap your arm
around a child
warm against your chest
teach him to train his eyes
on falling leaves

Take time
to point your finger
toward squirrels dancing
across branches to their
nest-home perched
atop the tulip poplar
towering over the back yard

Take time
to trace a
two year old hand
outline each finger
leave living imprints
beyond mere paper
into the next
generation

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
The way you count things
just with your fingers, or one time counted
the freckles on my face, final count fifty-seven,
or the way tonight we count stars in your garden
except there are not that many to count
and we’ll soon count sheep in our heads instead
but you are counting from one to whatever
a list of things you count as my best qualities
and I join in and count down
what I love about you, countless memories
we store together and count as treasures,
but to count them all would take so many hours
I’d be out for the count, sleeping by these flowers.

After a year, you talk
Like I was
Already alright.

I am. I am now better.

But I was enough
For you to think
That you have
Enough ears, enough eyes
To look at you.
feel you
Touch you


I was mesmerized
By the idea
That you were
More than enough...

You were a dream.
were..

I should be happy,
I should be okay

maybe these are the same thoughts in your pretty little head

Thing is I'm okay
I'm alright

I'm better now.

**Alive.

Even my lonely bridge is sleeping fine.
Though an occasional soft stirring sigh,
You won’t be singing for me tonight.

I tremble
In your presence
And am consumed
By every line on your body.
I trace them with my eyes
And long to feel them
With my fingertips.
An aching erupts from
Inside of my body
And a fire blazes
That I never want to
Extinguish.
My heart is cradled in
Your infinite eyes
And I want you to
Hold it for eternity.

There is a light within
A shine without
An infinite source
The mind with doubt
Beyond the universe
Cosmic between
Eternally it goes
It is rarely seen
It's take your mind
Tears your soul
You find yourself
Life takes it toll