the empty glass of earlier red wine
is a temptress beside me as i sit in this chair
subtle sways of fragrance wafting
her beckoning calls out like a siren

isn't that just like a woman to do such a thing?

A blinding reflection
of the sun’s light shot
like lightening flares crashing
against glass towers
turquoise blue drawings
of the sky in structures
with angles and boundaries
climbing high as its
architecture would allow,
thrilled by the terror
of getting right
to the edge
and looking down
was my first step
towards freedom;
towards a tiny movement
in a no fly zone
bent by dreams, purposes
and meanings
now those peregrine callings
and two flying together
are becoming human,
lit with discernment
of a third eye
and an aerial view
I step off the edge,
headed east
into the morning sun
like the hauntingly beautiful
songs of French monasteries
I see clearly,
I am strong
and my body can only rise

I like how the air feels
when you are in the room
the atoms visibly assemble
as your soul and synapses
converge
the earthly and the ethereal
and I need it now,
the air you produce with your exhales
I need it on my skin,
through my pores
inside my ribcage
wisdom and innocence co-habit your face

you are pure running waters

raising humans above your head
like a homage to the gods
like the worship of cats in Egypt
your hands form a basin
to cradle my vulnerability
they safeguard the ethos of who I am
and exalt the who I want to be
you are inside of me
and together we are whole

There was a spot on the sidewalk
Where the sun had landed
Making its way through the skyscrapers
I stood inside it, face tilted upwards
To let heat and light kiss my skin
Just then, a breeze surrounded me
Swirls and circles and
I felt the color blue
For a few moments
What is me disintegrated
Dissolved into the sky
Alive forever

She thinks if she travels to foreign lands- even if
it is only by dating an ethnic man- that she can
scale the high walls of the borders between what she
was taught and who she hopes she is.

Having followed blindly her predestination programmed life
she can’t resist taking squinted peeks through the
tiny open slits of vision, hoping to find her true self.

“You are losing the faith!” her anxious mother warns
as though to do so would be an inherent flaw,
not a conscious choice.

But Mother’s own faith
has been slipping through her hands for the past
30 years, and only that promised salvation can save
her from the indiscretions that fill the non-rapturous void
left-behind by mister Christian-right-wing-man.

Taught well by mother, father, and god, that men
must be assessed in a purely logical fashion,
“Agree on finances and childrearing and you will
have happily ever.”

But she feels fake, and does not know how
to peel the plastic wrap off her personality.
You can see its bindings in the way her eyes implore you
and how she clasps her hands on her lap by rote.

She is the pink peg in the Hasbro Game of Life car
with guilt trip road blocks, detours and poorly folded
directional maps. Spinning the wheel in search of tour guides:
What should I read? What should I think?

But that only gives her new mind instructors.
Perhaps instead of foreign languages and foreign lands,
the verity lies in the realization that mother
probably feels fake too.

if i were a bird
i would follow you
in-tune your rhythm
with my vibrations
as one, we climb
the rocks of high places
our perceptions
our panoramas
entwined
rising suns and rising moons
whooshing wings and winded breath
sweet communion

I pulled into the Starbucks parking lot
with the force of a lion after its prey
and with the lethargy of one whom had not eaten in weeks
drudging up that last ounce of strength to obtain survival

my eyelashes had mascara from the night before
and my hair was thick with day-old hairspray
hiding behind sunglasses, I shifted my weight for relief
from the flip-flops rubbing unpleasantly between my toes

keenly aware of the headache above my eyes
I got my coffee and was prepared to flee back to my den
where I could devour it, keeping a wary eye on would be thieves
as my fatigue and I walked hastily towards the exit

Life happened. To my left, sat a couple side by side
they wore the casual clothes of confidence and serenity
he sat by the fireplace, his glasses sat at the end of his nose
her body leaned close to the man she loved, and forward to see

the book that was laid open on the table in front of them
curious minds swallowed the words that were offered there
under gray hair, hands holding, faint smiles formed on their lips
I had never seen such a portrait of true contentment

outside, the image kept speaking to my brain, despite my preoccupation
and I saw you. and I saw me. in thirty years, a virtual lifetime
our aging together; maturing, evolving, creating
side by side, ever content, with books, love and coffee.