The creak of a glacier, floating out to sea.
Cold metal on my palms, ice shards on my tongue
The shell of my breath cups my cheek.
Slowly, I climb
Inch by inch
Inch by solid, frozen inch
Until I heave myself over the edge
The top
The surface of the creaking, hulking mass that is your cold, frozen heart.
You told me once it was pointless
Don't get my wrong- I am cognizant of my own stupidity
But what can a person do?
A touch, a sigh, a warm body in the night-
My soul craves neverending
A cool stream for my parched throat
A soft bed for my aching feet
I long for you, desire your body and mind and soul and
The creaking, hulking, frozen mass of your heart.
You warned me, but now that I've scaled you,
I've reached your surface,
I can see the expanse of sea before me
The neverending, blemish-less blue.
Not a scrap of land, a bit of anything to cling to,
To stay and build a home.
I will float, now, on this endless, ocean
Traveling inch by inch toward sanctuary that will never appear.
You promised me nothing,
And I suppose you've delivered.
The problem is,
How do I crawl back down this mass
Pick my way down cliff-drop edges
Without plummeting and vanishing beneath the waves,
All alone in your endless, bitter ocean?

The rhyme was easy
The meter was simple
All we needed was the title.

Whispered words in the night
Loops traced on restaurant napkins
A soft sound against my neck.

A burst of thought during lunch break
Scrolling through lines on a screen
Or the rasp of pages between dry fingers.

The title eluded us
A distant, provocative idea whose
Promise tasted sweeter than its journey,
But whose demand pulled at our stomachs
In an endless tug-of-war.

It was one a.m., he had garlic and
***** and toothpaste breath and I
Coughed and mumbled and
Shoved him away when he
Gasped and prodded my shoulder,
Excited feet making the bed shake.

Somewhere between my "*******"
And "goodnight, sweetheart" was the
Soft caress, the tickle on the back of my neck
That wormed its way into the
Corner of my brain
A white film that slowly seeped behind
My eyelids-
"Reginald"

Reginald
Reginald?
I sat up, I turned, I stared at him until
He opened one smoky eye and watched me
Watching him.

And then I laughed.
And laughed.

And that's why we named you Reginald.

i wade through each day like slush;
gray, cold, frostbitten toes
they run toy trains up and down my spine
lick salt off my cheeks and press
fingers to my forehead.
they tell me i'm sweet, soft spoken
a kind soul, a saint
i let their words roll off my crimson lips
cloying honey, deep golden hue.
sometimes the hours are lonely
lost in space and dimension with but a key
to a door that only opens down
so that i fall in an endless rabbit hole.
a ticking clock, a shrinking potion
i masticate tea cake crumbs until i gag.
eat me, drink me,
dispose of this monotonous body
this rotting cage for a shredded soul.
i tell them my number and rank
i tell them my number and rank
i tell them, and they shove a satin ribbon down my throat
tip an oil can to my crimson lips
and tell me it was all a dream.

blue eyes and blue skies
your white pillow lips
your spider leg eyelashes
and the soft, brown bruises that
tiptoe up my wrist

soft downy, warm skin
a tiny entity in the pale moonlight
purple and yellow
wet and slime and rawness
but empty, flutterless, cooling:
the bare nakedness we created
no longer exists

dribbling words
a tipsy house that leans to one side
gentle breeze and creamy clouds-
mashed potatoes to slather with butter or
the fluid that drips down my leg

asphalt, cold but burning
a right a left
a straight
and i stumble
press a hand to the leftover lump of my abdomen
and turn toward an empty, flickering highway

I entered the room as I exited:
A word, a dash, a smashed language
Spit and slushy words, curled and garbled
A soft, a sigh, a wisp of perfume
Teases, ignites
A glance toward the door, a leg, creamy skin
A dress, a glass slipper, a carriage?
No matter; I exist, eternal
My scent my skin my voice
You swallow, ****, savor
Consume what should not be
Until I leave you,
Quivering
In a puddle upon the floor.

His head split open like an egg
No, a watermelon, I guess,
With all the red and
Seeds and the goop of a pumpkin
Or a cantaloupe.
Yeah, split open like a big
Fat
Fruit, swollen and attracting flies in the
Summer heat.
Putrid, rotting,
His head was a big
Round
Fruit, and I never saw those eyes
Ever again.

He flickers
She trickles
Together they are soot and smoke
Dripping wax stuck to the table
Scrape it off and lick your fingers clean

A mouse hides under my skin
He nibbles my ribs
Chews through the mesh of my brain
I whisper back, coo at his squeaking
His bones crunch between my teeth

Lines shape and form
Colors melt and bubble
Scent is a taste
Touch is a sound
Sprinkle of salt and the ending dissolves

Butter that oozes
Corn syrup dribbles out her mouth
Milk pours from between her legs
And ketchup sprays from her *******

The scissors snap
A tether is cut
One being becomes two

An open faced sandwich before me
Tomatoes galore, juicy and
Ripe. Slathered mayonnaise,
My mouth waters as I dive in-
To my meal.