ring around my finger
your kiss it lingers

in your eyes and on my hand
watching me leave your land

standing out by the trees
cold autumn-threaded breeze

so far I'll miss you
I risk even this too

living apart now
trust our lives
to our art

when the toll's paid
groundwork, road laid

I'll walk the bargainer's path
we'll make it there,
and last.

the thrill
of you races
over my skin.

two equals one
-say the words
then it's done.

we'll start
at the beginning
of  an uncharted board
game

the directions are fuzzy
but everyone's played
it.

so much better,
though,

than Monopoly, don't
you think?

I Do.

Russian stacking dolls.

I layer like a jawbreaker
Folding one face
over the other.
My hello, smile, freeze frame.
Molten sugar shaped into points and curves
for eyelashes and lips.

In the days, flourescent and white
I lead, I direct, I juggle

Night spent, curled in the orange glow
bracing against the pain of
distance, wiping childhood away,
being the proverbial 'strong'
picturing your eyes
and mouth, both of us
mimes and mirrors for the other.

Conflict- do I open a portal
to the distance,
and
nod to our promise and hug you
with my heart

or fixate it on it, decline
and hold the refusal
in my mind, whispering into the pillow
consoling the dodge of not
trying to lie about salty cheeks.

'balance on the wet stones,
continue your creation.
You made this construct,
and you know the way through.'
-this is my feverish mantra.

But...
In this dimension I fracture my soul
to live forever, only to get through today,
this year
this week...
while we are on opposite ends of this
fearsome Bridge.

And when the lace comes, the celebration
the toast,  I ready myself to take our bright flare
the kiss, and our promise, back with me to my painful, green cave.

and hold it in the dark, cover it, too
in salt.

and pray with every bone and fiber for
the place where our timeline can
converge.

manage the-
measure the-
beating worry
surging- the tickles
of dread I didn't
really Don't
welcome.
if I love you
and lose you in the daily...
that
fear of leaving you sleeping.
what do I do
when they really shut the door
and we're
cut off.
when I'm here
are you,
still there?
can my love -its
armor
is it strong
enough?
vs. the world
I worry.

and it is undone
plucked from the snow

with the glasses
of a rose
back on the bridge

I saunter on
til the next doubt
comes along
and tries to *****
my thumb.

beautiful orange
globe of fruit

golden juice
sunshine summer cup

offered to me
on your finger tips

shut/open my eyes
blink
and the fruit is

cold and tossed into the snow

what did I do to change
your seasons so?

I can see the weakness
in my own words- their
weary Translucence,

even as I
wind my euphemisms and parry
****
snip the comma off,

attempt to catch my thoughts
before venom leaks out
of my em-dash.

but I can't.
Won't.
take back any
noun I flung

And So.

as you
walk down the hall

I see my adjectives
Just-
dripping off your
neck
rolling down the corridor

fat, black
and innocuous

and somehow feel
that I have
completely failed

at English.