Heated
Baths of liquid gold on
Skins of alabaster cold
Were the touches
Of her hand
On his body
In his soul

jealous of that taxi you rode. jealous of that man you rode.
jealous of the shelf space you made for him.
jealous of the polaroids of polaroids taken.
shame he's prettier than me. jealous of your mirror.
jealous of your curtains.
jealous of your tibia.
jealous of the light switch.
shame we weren't prettier.

As sure her eyes were azure
Pure as emeralds held tightly close. And his eyes closed
He knew she was
The only gem precious
Left in this world.

Then
The sun rose
On another day
On the cherry tree blossoming
Away. And the redbirds on limbs
Happier than larks and
A lone man on the porch
Just sitting giving thanks
Breathing deep sighing
A memory perhaps of days
Gone by and the blossoms smelling
Like they did and the sun bright as then and his breath just as breathless
As when he was younger

the grass is a trap for us both here
keeping us apart by sheer centimetres
each blade guarding our arms lightly
trusting our legs lying there quiet

you play me your favourite soft rock bands
i pretend to listen and to care more than myself
but all i know is your soft smirk lines
and that you can’t keep your blues off me

tell me about your “super” computers
and how all my poetry is just 1, 0, and maybes
and i’ve never believed in the binaries
or doing work for someone else

so when i take off your cut off jeans
and you ride your hands up my black cherry dress
do you feel like your operating machinery
or is it just another maybe?

The chessboard is patterned in onyx and white.
Yellowed ivory are the pieces she plays.
The King is in Jeopardy; her options are few;
Death’s Jet pieces are against her arrayed.
Her opponent is fearsome; a skeletal Knight,
enrobed in a caftan as dark as midnight.
Each move she makes falls before the plan
of the specter’s outstretched bony hand.
As she pauses to ponder if her next move is wise
Her spectral opponent assumes a new guise;
“it’s your move, Dolores.” Her opponent now said
in the guise of her husband, some twenty years dead.
By now almost all ivory pieces are gone,
leaving her only her King and one pawn.
She moves to defend but no chance can be seen
in sending a pawn out to battle a Queen.
Once more her opponent assumes a new face;
Her beloved lost Daughter assumes her Dads place.
She has fought long and hard; long past hope of gain.
Now draining fatigue saps the strength from her frame.
“Mom, it is time to resign without shame;
None can deny you gave Death a good game.”

the itch to
open and devour a book
filling myself
with emotions
that help me escape
reality
that bury my sadness
six feet deep

the urge to stay
and drown myself
in the abyss
of the
beauty
of
the language

my elders consider my punishment like prison
separated from my phone but linked to a chain in my home
for 7 days any kid my age wouldn't survive but suffer
what's for supper?
wait, last night double pound
McStuffer burger?!
but dad...
mother!
I'm trying a new diet tonight and am in immediate incapacity
of filling my bottomless pit's wildest delights
perhaps an offer...(?)
every night I must survive
we can all share a nice family supper

you don't exist when
my eyes are open
you don't exist when
my blood's not poisoned
when my soul's at peace
when my gut is full
and when I'm in company

So you exist most of the time
dear muse

Tearing thorns from coat
I found hidden amongst
The winter fabric a broach
Slightly mellowed by age
And the stone a shiny blue.

No one knew its origin outside
An old cigarette tin with rust
And the smell of cough candies
That belonged to a mother’s love
Returning home I was not alone.

Love Mary **