your man
courts you in silence
because his words don't fit in your wallet.

your man
courts you in the future
because his now doesn't strike your now's fancy anvil with it's patina of past

your man
courts you while walking in sin
because to the icy gospel truth: real,
he is a lie

your man
courts you
nevertheless.

your man
courts you because he loves you
not as an object,
but as the subject matter of the story
that has been written in his heart

sleepy, feverish
smiling nonetheless
she lay me down
with almost loving concern
i offer money
feigned anger with humor in a look
leaving again to get groceries
possibly turn a trick
this florence nightingale Christmas ******
stays and nurses me for a week
i remember meeting her
in a bar in Seoul
we liked the same jazz
not a word of each other's slipped away unoticed
nor understood
she was authentic and made of beauty
light played around her
we never tried to-ruin it
she was leaving i could sense it
i put a thousand in her purse while she fixed her tear stained eyes
i couldn't fix mine

i met eyes with myself in the mirror this morning
we had a moment where time seemed to freeze
i saw that he'd got back his bearings
he saw I'd filled back up with light
we leaned back and laughed then kept staring
as yesterday limped out of sight
dragging away its bag of dry bones

him is at the end of the sentence
him knows at the end of this day
whatever the verdict
now it
never mattered
him's debt is undoubtedly paid

her left out the parts with her name on them
him knew what was his just the same
none of that mattered
not where it landed
at least that's what she said she said she said

now is not the time for tears
bind whatever is broken
prop yourself up
your confidence seems to be flagging
a death sentence for straw dogs and hollowmen
such as we