When we got together I quickly learned that
he liked to fix things;
whether it be cars, toys or even people.

But I didn't need fixing.

So he peeled me apart,
petal after petal,
until I was no more than broken glass on the floor.

Then, he started stitching.

Where he had ripped me at the seams he
sewed my wounds together and glued the pieces back
until he was satisfied.

He was done knitting.

What I forgot to mention was
that he'd always grow bored a short while later
so he eventually left me for somebody else

"who needed fixing."

The cluster of ice in my glass
  looks like a milky fist.
I shake my cup and ask
  about the weather.
He says, 'Hasn't rained in
  one thousand or so years.'
I say how that's unfortunate;
  he says how **** happens.

This party transitions into
  something out of an art-house film;
the Cali-tens are dancing to some
  80's song you would vaguely recognize.
They bump into one another
  like bees in an electric hive.
A Russian drinking a Russian
  asks about drugs.
I say into my drink that I
  don't have that many friends.

Looking for a bathroom,
  I am bumped by hips and lips
into the former eggshell/cigarette stain wall,
where I find my partial reflection
  looking back at me in that familiar
transparent parent way.

I find myself apologizing.

Dearest oak tree how do you remain so still
As the winds whip and whistle through your leaves
How do you stand for a lifetime through chills
As the winter swallows all you've grown through the seasons
Larger you grow in an unfamiliar grove
While the flowers around you are replaced every year
There you stay as those around you sow
New crops and forget how you were placed here
Every morning you stand a bit taller
Though your branches begin to stoop low to the ground
The sun promptly sets and the earth looks smaller
Yet you remain as you were before the winds whipped around
Oh! Wise oak you've explained to me stability
Created a child of the earth and sea

little birds
all yellow mouths
and hunger

chirp with needful bellies
keeping the olds
in frantic motion
to  silence the calamitous cries

you are the show of the day
for the half grown, well fed instinct
that sits on the other side of the window ledge
eyes wide, ears forward, poised to leap
he watches trembling, with adrenaline
filled need to hunt, years of
domestication be ******
he is tiger, you are prey

at least till the door to the
refrigerator opens.....

touch and allure
blush  lipstick  make me see
the horizon surely
where the trees gray clouds
the lake all merge
into cerulean
indecipherable
jumbles of arms  legs lips like the clouds trees
lakes green
melt into distances
the soft eyes see
everything