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Diane Jun 2013
the first time we passed in the hallway
our energies awakened
to the presence of a like spirit
it was that instant that you
became my friend
although neither of us knew it yet
a year later, mouths and hearts opened
empathy
spirituality
humanness
and humor
linguistic nuances and predilections
sing with ease and asylum
the enlightenment and
liberation of being heard!
for this, i vow my loyalty
years, miles, and actions
are inconsequential
here i stand
confidante
encourager
synchronicity
how much you have been
to me is fathomless
the who you are, is soil under my feet
your words breathe air into my mouth
your kindness anoints my head with oil
Diane Jun 2013
I could cry making love to her, said he about me. He took me
through the countryside where he endured and at times, enjoyed
life as a child, met his father; surprisingly winsome and caring.

Showed me the clearing where dreams of wedding vows reside,
wildflowers and sunlight and the smell of the wind. Said he could
not wait to kiss me inside the threshold of his new house, could

not wait to make love to me on the new bed that he bought to
contain the exclusive bonds of our two bodies. He said time and
constancy would prove his devotion

I am here.
I am not going anywhere, said he to me.

I scanned my instincts and found incredulous peace, my own disbelief
was the only recognizable fear, and a reason NOT to be happy would
need to be birthed by ignorant spontaneous invention. I felt beautiful,

loved and secure, with laughter and poetry, singing and guitar,
tranquility and passion and rain on our first kiss, cooing Hey Jupiter.

Undone. My head is throbbing from smashing against the proverbial
windshield because he slammed on the brakes and slipped every
thing about me into reverse tragedy has taken his mother away and

sisters and brother look to the eldest for help his 3 year old daughter
has just returned from Maine.

Too- much- at- once, he gasped, I am drowning! Take my hand
love, you are not alone, I will sit beside you, I won’t say a word.

But he wanted nothing of me from me or for me because my sea
colored towels recently hung in his bathroom have been speaking
auditory hallucinations “She has come to steal your autonomy” and

he felt shame for this, after all it was he who asked me to put my
toothbrush in his cabinet. No need to over-complicate; he thought
he wanted a relationship, until he remembered all the things he

can’t stand about relationships and now my form represents all
the things that [and] he cannot stand, and the face in the mirror
said to him “Don’t listen to the towels, you coward! You are afraid

of letting her down. Just let her down now, get it over with and
then you can pretend that she never happened.”
He listened to the mirror and to the towels and declared,

I am here.
I am not going anywhere.

Thus, he got rid of those ******* towels and the woman who
brought them into his house. Life is too hard to include you, said
he to me, just accept it; this has nothing to do with you.

Hey Jupiter, nothing’s been the same.
Diane Aug 2013
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
I wrote this several years ago and just stumbled upon it as I am packing to move from downtown Mpls. It seemed appropriate to recall this memory of spring, when the sun returns and we begin to bloom.
Diane Aug 2013
A rudimentary grave
dug with bare hands
sculpted with lashing tongues
going deeper and deeper
until it dredged up
tainted water
now the grave
is thick with mud
but no less deep
Diane Aug 2013
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.
Diane Nov 2013
As the bus approached the stop
next to the library
I knew.
The sight of you
standing there
was not a surprise.
Pleasantly, you entered,
toting your instruments like a back pack.
Your weight made the seat
creak, when you sat down
--right in front of us.
For a brief second,
your heart was spared
and then,
out of the corner of your eye
an orange hoodie
dark shaggy hair
and me.
This must be what doctors see
when they tell families their
loved ones have passed;
a pain catching the eyes
making them blink while open.
I selfishly expected
you to understand
as your mouth cried quietly
“he had his chance!”
I wanted to run after you
when you gathered
your
             …things
and got off the bus.
Instead, I watched you walk away
downward face
wasting your last few dollars,
leaving your young heart back
inside our potluck pumpkin pie.
How cruel unmet needs use people.
Your face
that day
hurts me still.
Later that weekend,
he
said to me,
"It’s funny, how I can look at you now
and not get turned on."
Diane Jul 2013
The only thing worse than rejection
is helplessness, or
maybe it's the helplessness that makes
you feel like you are
bound and gagged by the person who
once loved you.
I would have lain beside him to
hold him gently sleeping.
Sat alongside of him,
while the aquarium of
his brain swims and bubbles.
But his thoughts and words
are tangled in the artificial seaweed
and I am no more than the plastic
diver engaged in repetitive
motion but making
no real
impact. Distance is vast. Silence is
shrieking.
I watch as dead fish float to the top
while my my hands are tied
behind my back.
Diane Aug 2013
the shadows delighted to capture
her supple form and cast it
against the light
in lithe velocity
willowy limbs climb walls and streets
and in that way she belonged to them
Diane Mar 2015
the stars you swallowed
have turned into
a brain full of people
and own the sky
harmonious jealously  
ardent decrescent  
half -held constellation
Diane Feb 2014
My aunt Ruth wore red hair
a deep smokers voice
and matte lipstick.
She would implore me
for a hug
at frequent family gatherings
where the women were loud
so I stayed with my dad.
One day, the women coerced me
to embrace, by scolding me
for being rude.
My young brain could not connect
my fear with her voice,
but Ruth knew. She also
knew she was dying;
you don’t say “lung cancer”
in front of the children.
If it weren’t for the voice,
I think I would have liked her  
because most people in my life
told me to go away.
A tale of two people desperately needing to know that their lives mattered.
Diane Oct 2015
i stood too close to the edge of the portal
silently ******* me into
it
surrounded by ghosts
so much singing a dizzying high
perspective grumbled and wrung me out
saying that dish is not clean
because you did not rinse it before
putting it in the dishwasher
what the hell did you eat anyway?
essence of absorption and deception
i dipped them in truth until they tasted sweet
honey unto my lips
all i could think about was the honey
the ******* desire to be slathered in honey
licking it off my own body
and his
while the wind tickles the fine hairs
inside my ears
can you hear the sound of self
disclosure?
forgetting anything other than captivating madness
that has not happened yet
there are still people around, I know because I
see them, barely
Diane Aug 2015
Oh heat of summer
Satisfy me
I welcome the sweat on my ******* and stomach
Warm and winding currents of air
Hold that thought and attend to my eyes
Spirits speak here
Surrounding we two
This is where they sell the things
That touch my god
Diane Nov 2015
I am shivering and pinned
against the back of the couch.
Sixty watts of failed
compensation for heat.  

My leg aches
from the lack of circulation
but I can’t move
because you are snoring
with my thigh on your cheek.
and my hair in your mouth.

A pitch black drunken fall
found your terror
between my legs,
sedatives and obsessions.
This ethos defines you.

I remain awake, in exhilaration and discomfiture.

No one knows where I am and
we don’t know who we are. Tall grass and wind, far away.
A dark drive for the taste of nicotine and vanilla.
We both breathe a little faster when our hug lasts too long.

Reminiscing perfume of sulfur and hay,
I long for the revolver
with its pretty and its smoking
and the way you tried to hide
your smile watching me.  

Your hand felt warm,
and your words felt soft
as you tried to explain
why you won’t leave
and I tried to explain why I would.

Fear claimed me when you drove
too close to the shoulder
Stirring your words with serrated fury
that I am everything
you have ever wanted
but you cannot control your viper.

I like you better the first half of the bottle
when gentle and uninhibited
are still together.

Convinced that you need it
in order to touch me
but you don’t, really,
touch me that is
and I don’t

because your strange celibate
allegiance
to the her  
leaves me wondering,
what the hell am I doing here?

Persons within you, sane and not
debate aloud;
panic or deliverance?

Desperately pleading
for my comfort
but you won’t look into my eyes
when I hold you.

Yes, you said all those things out loud,
including the two times
you murmured that you love me

The admission I have craved
still, you stayed behind
because recurring paranoia
broken arms and mended promises
are your everyday life.
Diane Oct 2015
Tonight,
the full moon was not allowed to delight me
despite my charming and persistent coaxing
she remained quiet behind the clouds
and my wine dripped slowly
on the outside
of its glass
Diane Sep 2013
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
Diane Oct 2014
we both like to go
where we last felt the sun
because eventually, it will return
Diane Mar 2014
Her face wears anger, daring you
to look into her eyes and offer “hello”
the only things left to lift her to standing
are guilt and tears held in place daily
by repeated phone calls to her children

Neighbors are uncertain what to say
everything changed when her husband died
tinnitus of lonely continually ring
guilty for feeling angry that he left her
she always drinks alone now

I brought her some dinner on cafeteria china
unbreaded fish that she wanted for lent
She thinks people are laughing at her.
her eyes are brown and mostly terrified
crying out for someone to see her

Standing there, in her soft, white sweater
head drenched in tears and apologies
anger exchanged for compassion
I hugged her tightly for a good long time
so she would know that I meant it
Diane Jun 2013
Phone kept close
Watching the clock
Maybe somebody better
will interrupt
Darting eyes
Incomplete thoughts
Words bounce and ricochet
off the side of your head
Mix your messages
Feed your ego
Pretend not to notice
my wilting enthusiasm
Don’t text me when
the next girl threatens you
with conversation
Diane Oct 2013
A jealous glass
of jostling waves
sits alone
on the bedside table
music
fire
lingered lyricism
of passions
mouthed
we own our selves
our bodies
and time
I am never more woman
than when you
are inside of me
Diane Sep 2013
a malt liquor brain bath to deaden the nerves
his entire body is encased in a crusty scab
hard enough that he can’t feel your smile
…much, but then…
he tries, scared eyes breaking contact
his stories are wrapped in laughter bandages
because it’s funny that the nuns
would humiliate him in school
and that his brother killed himself
by jumping off a bridge in St Paul
doesn’t every kid dream of having a bi-polar mother?
that was the brother he could talk to by the way
the other kids, well, just as mean as the nuns
a funny story alright. tragic comedy of
a sensitive soul with a pillow over its face
until it was smothered almost dead
arms flailing in desperation, muffled cries
“there is new skin beneath this scab!”
**** it.
pour some beer on this thing until it drowns
Diane Jul 2013
i listened to the clever
words that you sang
watched you close your eyes
and strum your guitars
forgetting myself,
charmingly moved by
your poetry and cadence
yet the pervasive,
recurring thought
was how impelled i felt
to welcome our bodies
fervid collision
bury my hands in your hair
firmly seize your jaw
graze your  lips  
and kiss you.
Diane Feb 2014
Some love can never
be destroyed
its color clings
to the backdrop
of our hearts
notes of its song
beneath a layer of paint
Diane Jun 2013
A wet, salty tear rolls down
Emotions climb out of their grave
Explosion of light inside
Spread and seep from my lips
Powerless to contain them
Gasping as they emerge
Given utterance, validation and freedom
"I am still in love with you."
Another wet, salty tear
Diane Apr 2014
In the transition between water and ice
I spoke my words inside an air pocket
and let it freeze over
Diane Oct 2014
The hobby is distraction itself
Aligning physical space with
Awareness
Four inches closer to
Goal number three
When the walking stops
Does it all become dull?
Even then would I construct
Another reason, if
There they were
The prints of your beautiful feet
Diane Jan 2014
An earnest, sad face standing before me
guitar in hand, at last
I hear the words of a song
written one year before, but never sung
whose score on pages had been let go
to be caught up in the wind
and played almost imperceptibly
in the rustling and swooning of tree tops
Had he said these words to me
I would have known
I would not have been buried
beneath a doubt so heavy
that I was unable to sit upright
fears and insecurities sowing seeds of destruction
aware that all our laughs and smiles
were nervously reaching, like wandering vines
grasping for a place to climb and grow
Leaving meant his feelings could not bind him
so music and lyrics were given
although he burst into tears
and could not finish its entirety
lips tremors speaking “this is not goodbye”
But I knew it was
and I was stunned. Paralyzed. In disbelief
standing barefoot in my driveway
watching his sobbing face through the windshield
without enough sorrow to make him stay
I honestly thought he could not go without me
But I was wrong, I was left
numb, a walking zombie
hearing myself speak
feeling my face smile
moving about as if I were still alive
through the changing of seasons, workdays and holidays
until gradually I belonged to my body again
For years, this remembrance hemorrhaged
with tears from a cancer ridden heart
But now I exist  
on the other side
This was another of Nat's assignments!
Diane Jun 2013
That serpent fear
has slithered into
my stomach
and is coiled there
a dark, solid weight
secreting his poisons
digesting my soul
I swallow hard
to push him back
down
my throat where
he climbs and lunges
to remind me
he is still there
Diane Jan 2014
From whence this identity comes
Malts, hops, father’s approval  
What he holds in his arms
Is of no surprise
‘Just missing’ each other
Not likely coincidental
Star couplings, mishap earthlings
Persons never to be known
Crossed streets to  
Strange neighborhoods
Lawn games… how odd
In quiet hours on the highway
Gripping, understood, elusive and all wrong
Remembering, but more forgotten
Ring passed over luminescent waters
Love, not enigmatically magical
Autumn hues in baby fine hair
Righting the nightmares
Nothing mattered more than this.
Diane Jun 2013
I feel like you sometimes
as I flit about from day to day
cautiously touching ground
in search of a safe place to land
In search of the kind people
whose motives are gentle
and whose words can be trusted
“Come closer, I won’t hurt you”
Some of the most frightening
words in the English language
And the naive ones who
still believe in love
get run over
or batted about by a hungry cat
and left to decompose throughout
the remaining weeks of summer
Diane Jun 2013
A little girl barely fitting behind
the metal casing of the basement furnace
The wall feels cold through her t-shirt
and scratches the skin on her back
No one knows about her hiding place
Except the spiders that occasionally crawl
across her bare legs and feet
It’s dark. She tries not notice that it’s scary
Because it is quiet and it’s safe
There is nothing to stop her from existing
in the world she creates in her mind
That world has sunshine and loving words
Where she is pretty, like the girls in the catalogues
with dresses and ruffled underwear
Jesus carries her on his shoulders and tells her that she is special
So for an hour or two she is not un-bathed and unwanted
She will sit here dreaming until she falls asleep
Because no one will notice that she is gone
Diane Dec 2013
accidental
collisions in the dark
titillation held softly  
like warm tea
in a porcelain cup
the curve of my hip
ever arches towards you
cool skin and warm touch
are my delectation
Diane Jul 2013
Blindly letting "us" oppress my spirit
I have put my happiness
under your directives

But the sky has tapped me on the
shoulder saying "come with us,
this is where you belong"

Aura expanding, lithe and flowing
sweet gifts of elements,
divine exhales of summer

Grounded, reaching, floating upwards,
songs of widened pathways;
portals of endless blues

And I stroll through this world with
freedom eyes, and I think and feel
as one unencumbered  

If you want to find me, you must
let yourself soar, because I suddenly
remembered I can let myself out.
Diane Nov 2013
You are forward motion.
There are no steps without your shadow
before, behind or beside me.
We are sun that reflects light on the moon
and in turn, the moon lights our paths,
the cycle of light creating light
like cycles
of love creating desire;
creating more love
creating more light
desire satisfied continual motion
even when we are still.
The words we speak  
form mist to pass through
by the moisture of our breath
shaped in letters and language.
Spaces we create
both expanded and enmeshed
by droplets of our waters
lost inside the body.
One body of water.
One body of light.
Creating passageways and shadows
in forward motion.
Diane Jun 2013
Spare me the rhetoric
Your transparent lines
Trying to get me
into your bed
Can’t decide between playing
a hipster or a
corporate American
Your new tennis shoes remind me
of the first day of school
I was just looking for a cup of coffee
Honey
Better luck tonight when you hit the clubs
Diane Dec 2017
It's easy to see why you fell in love with him,
It's easy to see why you hoped you found forever
But you didn't.
And that disappointment felt like a death
and you have been trapped between anger and denial
for four years.
You think you must bury him in order to bury your grief.
And convincing others of this too
has become a game
where you sleep and play
inside your litter box.
Now the feces of hatred and revenge
stick to your feet wherever you go.
You must turn him into a monster
by telling anyone who will listen
that he is haunting you—and you really want this to be true
because that would mean he was still interested in your life.
But when you are alone and still…you remember...
coffee and stories, genuine kindness
and you know, his only crime was breaking your heart.

I understand your heartbreak;
you saw your knight in shining armor,
The answer to your loneliness.
Your pathway out of poverty.
His demeanor is gentle,
his quiet, listening face
hears your words with truth and interest;
every sentence is allowed to live its full life
until you are validated and understood.
He is your biggest fan, a loving caregiver.
Children and animals are drawn to him
like a shepherd or a father or a friend.
We both know he gave 8 years to a child,
a paraplegic who wasn’t even his own.
Bathed him, carried him, wiped drool from his chin
and in between all the doctors, made him laugh.
He offers himself to everyone this way, so

I understand why losing him hurt you so wholly
I know this, because I love him too.
But I think you and I define love very differently;
I wouldn’t want someone whom I had to threaten to make him stay.
I wouldn’t derive my identity from an unspoken contract
or imaginary promises that I insisted he owed me.
I wouldn’t try to destroy another human being
for the sole purpose of hiding my own embarrassment.
You see, love would remember his beautiful soul
and love would sincerely want him to be happy

Even if that meant he found happiness without you.
A kind, self-sacrificing, honest man is being slandered because a woman he dated briefly turns rejection into victimization.
Diane Aug 2013
Let me be near you
In the comfort of your countenance
The wind softly swirling your tendrils of hair
Waves of sunlight land on your eyes
Almond shaped glow
Like a cat crouching
Beneath the bed
Measured movements
Measured breaths
Drawing surroundings inside yourself
Passing interpretations onto me

Let me listen to you
Blinking and shining our eyes locked in embrace
Speaking more loudly than the tongue
But making way for the tongue
Words that unite and ignite
Increasing breadth
Permission to hope, trust and believe
In this world
One more time
Lingering, holding the moment
Heart soaring from understanding

Let me touch your face
Graze the heat and texture that enshrouds
All that is you. Let me inside
Our spirits commune
Smile over us
Inviting
“Taste and discover!”
Who we have become
Who we are becoming
Recognition of this stranger
Stopping by on his way through time
Diane Sep 2013
some of the “greats” are walking among us
making eye contact upon our sidewalks
sharing sweaty seats on our buses
eating tempeh and salad at our cafés
lying next to us, sleeping, in our beds
we shop at their record stores
throw dollars in their guitar cases
curse their driving on our freeways
art and history are presently in motion
the past is just the place where we idealize them
Diane Sep 2013
Like multiple personalities
Creatures inhabit me
I know each persona as she lives
Sweepingly amalgamated
Feminine and Feline
Paradoxal archetype
In woman’s intuition
I am free!
And I would be nothing less
Diane Nov 2015
Attachments have beckoning powers
Louder in a whisper than the memory of my words
They’ll exchange sleepy smiles in the morning light  
     Who am I to believe I can step into history
     Flutter my wings and change the outcome?
Diane Mar 2014
I would not trade one year of my life.
Not those requiring great caverns of energy
simply to rise and meet the day
nor those from which pain has burrowed
deeply in the delicate fiber of my psyche.
For every decision by me and others, each
grouping of words that have passed between mouths
every face that has touched or met my gaze
have left tiny autographs for me to read and interpret.
And I like who I have become,
observation, trial, success and error
all training my intuition,
I see her and trust her with implicit acceptance!
Guided by glory alive in sun and soil
knowing thyself is my greatest feat
I create my own creed with which to live by
a truth that is mine, and mine alone
no one can steal it, but contribute quietly
my teachers come in many forms
surrounding me in ways only I can understand
For I will live true to my genuine self!
recognize my gifts and use them for good
have intimate, meaningful and loving relationships
value human beings and bestow demonstration
learn always, my mind remained open
develop my character with un-tethered honesty
impact humanity in positive ways
embracing the present, in fullness and experience
because there is beauty every way we turn.
That I am alive in this moment is greatness
and wisdom begins with this realization.

“Here is the test of wisdom,
Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,
Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it,
Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,
Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things;
Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.”  --Walt Whitman
Diane Oct 2013
climbing upon notes
riding their vibrations
lilting lightheadness
ridding my soul of carbon dioxide
rising as the sun out of me
I grow higher, expanding
joyous sorrowful ecstasy
tingling inside the blood of my veins
transfigure me into sound waves
I am only sensation
I am only invisible
transparent form of gods
re-born from melody
Diane Sep 2013
diaphanous tremors
when my nakedness is not enough
to portray how bare i lay before you
create a signature in the corner of our art
engendered by the voices of our bodies
which sing liquid harmonies for 
the completeness in our honesty
Diane Jun 2013
i have too much
to offer this world
to be
an angry man's
trophy
Diane Feb 2014
He told me that his father had been murdered
I picked the wine with the purple bird
and a beak shaped like a cork *****
ran into an old boyfriend at the liquor store
because life can be random with our emotions
his beard was already taking shape
one year of mourning marked by his son
it felt like a social gathering, looking out of
my window, how I had the best view in town
then, how the hospital below was excruciating
how his shirt had been covered in his father's blood
how he had not been able to talk to anyone
because he needed to be strong for them
how Dad had tried to bargain with his killer
and that image was giving him nightmares
he just wanted everything to feel normal again
a friend and neighbor
one glass of red
shoveling dirt until the casket was covered
his buddies were waiting at some guy's apartment
a helplessly sad hug goodbye
he smelled like Aveda, although I didn't mention it
how humans can walk and talk while dreaming nightmares
subliminal messages between the living and the dead
Diane Jun 2013
Today, like so many other days
my ipod shuffles (luna)
and lands on
a picture of you and me
your hand alongside my face
your eyes holding a depth
indescribable
having the kind of love
even tears cannot show.
And later, dashing about
my computer you are
there
like a surprise visitor who
suddenly entered the room
part angel, part ghost
and I catch my breath
my stomach and heart fight
for my throat.
Love so broken and neither
of us know how to fix it.
Both of us still  
feel our Pisces
tails tied together
still dream of how it
should
have been.
(3-7, 7lbs, 14 oz, blue eyed me,
brown eyed you)
Your beauty paralyzes me.
I think I will cry over you for
the rest of my life.
I met my astro-twin 5 yrs ago, the story is so complex I don't think I could survive if I tried to write it.
Diane Jul 2015
Love is supposed to set you free
I know this
Intellectually, I know
Chasing love stories and songs
Into blissful eternity
Crawling through the rabbit hole
Of my lover’s pale eyes
Puffy eyelids close down
Trapping me in
The moisture of tears
and bulging blood veins
Searching for exits in
Corpus callosum
These thoughts, those words, that smell
Don’t work
Neither does complaining
About who I should be
Generous anger poured over ice
Laughter covers the sound
Of eggshells crunching  
Make it through one more night
On the edge of the bed
Diane Dec 2013
If I were a bird,
I would follow you
Along the spring of your step
Your hair bouncing when you walk
Notice the things that make you laugh
Hoping my tiny flutters
made you smile
and when you looked worried
or heavy hearted
I would sing you my song
and carry you away
Diane Aug 2013
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
Diane Aug 2013
i.
Jimi was procrastinating in the bedroom with Lizi; his performance anxiety had become unbearable.
He could tell she was trying to “******” him tonight. She didn’t wear a bra under her ratty t-shirt and
snuggled up against him when she climbed into bed, this was his queue to come after her. Hmmm,
does she think he’s so simple? At least Pavlov’s dog had the respect of his owner. So he lay on his stomach,
pretending he was asleep like he had done so many times before. After what seemed like an eternity, Lizi
sighed with disappointment and rolled over.  When Jimi dared open his eyes he glanced at the clock,  
2:17 am. His stomach felt hard as he choked back tears, there has to be more to life than this…
when could he stop pretending?

ii.
“Shhh it’s ok. You don’t need to talk about it.” He said, pressing her head against his chest.
That angered her. She did need to talk about it, and he was treating her like a child. She glanced
at the clock, he had already overstayed his available time.
“You need to go. It’s past 3.”
He sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. Can’t keep the wife waiting.”
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Hey, it’s my own ****** fault for getting involved with you.”
Jimi didn’t say anything. He never did when things got uncomfortable. Instead, he reached for
his coat and put on his shoes. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, ok?”
Mango sat silently, staring out the window. No you won’t, she thought, and you’ll get busy
and forget to even ask me, because you don’t ******* really care.
He walked over and kissed her softly. “Bye honey.”
“Bye” she answered, not returning the kiss, or looking at his face. How could he bring up
this ****, and then leave her alone with all of her emotions?

iii.
There was really only one friend from college that Jimi trusted enough to talk about anything
of substance. But even so, he didn’t dare talk about Mango. He’d been telling her that he was
going to move out, but no one in his life knew there were even problems in the marriage. Lizi
didn’t know there were problems in the marriage. This was much bigger and more complicated
than he had imagined, and how long could Mango hold on?  He didn’t mean to **** her around,
but she cried more than she laughed these days….he really missed her laugh. When he and
Mango were together, his feelings for her were powerful, literally full of power. He had fallen in love with
her, more than he had ever loved anyone, or even knew he was capable of loving anyone. But the
pathway to her was terrifying and treacherous, and once on that path, there was no turning back.

iv.
“At this point music doesn’t comfort, poetry doesn’t comfort, my work does not comfort and you
do not comfort.  I don’t remember the last time I felt so empty and out of control of my life.”
The other end of the phone remained silent, every passing second bunching the muscles in her
back and neck as if her whole self was shriveling into a contorted form of a human being. “Jimi,
just face it—you lost me. You thought I’d be a cure for your boredom and dissatisfaction, but
you didn’t expect to fall in love with me. Okay, you love me. So what? So ******* what? You
aren’t going to leave your wife and I’m tired of being treated like your concubine.”
“Don’t give up, please don’t give up. Don’t you love me anymore?”
“Right now, I hate you. If I leave now, maybe the hate will fade and we can be some sort of friends.”
Nothing was heard but the faint sound of breathing for the next ten minutes.
“You know what Jimi? **** this whole **** game that you think is love and ******* too.”
and she hung up.

v.
“I know who you are.”
“Excuse me?”
“You are the woman who has been having an affair with my husband.”
Mango looked up from her register. Large round hazel eyes bore through her, burning with anger
and refusing to cry. An enormous scarlet letter “A” seemed to be melting into her skin. They stood
there, sizing each other up, Mango could feel her lip begin to quiver.
“I can see why he wanted you, you look nothing like me.”
Side by side it was true. One woman refined, statuesque, well bred. The other thrift store coordinated,
pierced lip and pigtails.
Mango tried to think of what to say “I’m sorry. It’s over, I ended it over a year ago.” was all she
could come up with. How do you say I’m sorry for intruding on the bond between a husband and wife?
How do you say I’m sorry for something that can never be undone and has forever seared pain
onto the heart of another woman?
They stared at each other for a full minute, neither willing to break the gaze. Finally, Lizi sighed and
began to walk away.
“Lizi…” She turned back to look at Mango one last time, “He didn’t make me happy either.”
Diane Jun 2013
i.
He stared at the woman, eyes darting to memorize her angles and features,  
at any moment this mirage could disappear.
For two full minutes he was unable to speak, too scared to let words loose;
they can no longer be hidden once they’ve been exposed.
So he kissed her instead, because he liked how it felt to no longer feel alone.

ii.
The grip of loneliness refused to let her go, like the claws of a jealous lover.
“One thing for certain, there is no god. We are completely alone, love is *******.”
“What if I showed you that you are not alone, how would it change your life?”
“I think I might actually be happy.”
“You are happy when you let yourself be…there is this…fire inside of you,  but
every time the momentum starts to build you tell yourself whatever you need to
hear to keep it from taking you.”

iii.
“Why the hell are you starting this with me? This isn’t right.”
“Who says I’m starting anything?”
“Oh, you’re one of ‘those’ guys.”
“What are ‘those’ guys?”
“The type of guy who pretends that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and
doesn’t admit to what he’s doing so he can play innocent when he’s called to
the carpet. But in reality,  he knows exactly what he is doing, and most of it
is premeditated.”
“Like ******?”
“Yeah, something like that. There is a good chance something or someone
could die in this scenario.”

iv.
They laid still for a while, trying to catch their breath.
“I think your parents named you after the wrong Craig Finn character.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“They should have called you Hallelujah, because you sound like an angel
when you ***.”
She smiled and she kissed him and they made love again,
and she felt like an angel.

v.
He started out the door and turned, lifting his shy head to look at her
“As far as I’m concerned, you are the only one I’ve ever slept with.”
She stopped breathing, afraid to believe the nouns and verbs that were floating.  
She repeated the sentence out loud after he walked away.
They were the most loving, pure and perfect words she had ever heard.
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