And as I lie next to her I feel as though I’m falling
From the stars down to an earth I don’t recognize
At a speed faster than terminal velocity.
I don’t know if I can’t sleep or don’t want to,
The lights of the skyscrapers ooze through
The bedroom window
And cover her anatomy
Like the dusting of the first snow
On new dahlia,
Earlier than it came last year,
Or the year before,
Or any year I can remember.
She need not dream about me,
So long as she awakens to me.
Her chest rises and falls,
My body throbs in waves of merciful tepidity
And colors drip into her dreaming mind.
I don’t feel scared.
For the first time I’d rather sit than run.
I listen to her with my eyes.
I see her in split seconds when I blink.
There are people who don’t know each other who want to go to war.
We don’t know each other, but maybe we could end one.

There’s a battle
That they don’t see
Between the david and Goliath
Within me
Some mornings my feet drag
More than they skip,
I skip breakfast
Because it doesn’t make me
Less hungry
And courage is fragile at times
Because it’s most often the sister of fear,
I want to be the way she moves,
Slow motion,
When water is white,
But also the river when it feels still.
I still feel,
And David loads his sling,
David got me this far,
I believe in him more than god.
Do you?

What if the lion was scared?
What if what goes up didn’t come down.
What if I placed a bet,
Somehow, against my garden.
What if i stopped looking,
What might I not find?
I know they didn’t build skyscrapers
To get closer to heaven.
What if the moon was no closer.
What if I could barely acknowledge,
The force it takes
For a blade of grass to grow.
And somewhere along a horizon I’ll never meet,
Lies the exploding of a star,
I named after you.

I’m waiting,
And not too desperately,
Until something is enough.
I desire,
Just as the moon moves tides,
Predictably,
Always on schedule.
The glass slipper I keep in my back pocket,
Grows cold, and I wonder if a different material might fit an idea more comfortably.
To say goodbye so many times,
Does not take anything from hello.
I’ve heard the core of the earth is very hot,
And that makes the most sense to me.
Somewhere beneath it all something burns,
And I want to know what it has to say.

She told me,
“I want to be close.”
I replied,
“It’s lovely to sit by a fire,
less lovely to be in one.”

I hope you cancel me,
I’m sick of you
and most everyone else.
They talk
too **** much.
Except for the mailman,
who comes
to my apartment building
everyday.
He puts every letter
in every right box.
He has made other mistakes
in this life,
but has never put a letter
in the wrong box.
And some of the letters
are regretful,
love letters
that in 2 years
will find themselves
in the fireplace.
Maybe a birthday card
from Buddy,
which will be kept forever
because it is the last one
you ever got from him.
The best letter I got
was from the queen
of Cap Hill,
and there were
no words written on it.
Blank piece of paper,
I wrote a poem on it
and threw it away.
I’ve seen the mailman everyday
for 28 years,
and he never says a word.

Tell me about how how you are a just a tourist everywhere you go.
Let me pick you up from the train station,
and drive you past
balance beam sidewalks
you once walked on
to get home after
you bulldozed the night
out of the sky.
Our lips tango
at every red light.
When they do,
I forget myself.
The light turns green,
I change the song.
I the mouse.
You the cat;
playing youthfully
with the terrified dinner you caught.