stars, the softest
prints, the watercolours
of the night, washed
in a rich green sea,
shining like prisms,
forgetful as the shadows of the moon
bold, restful bridge of the tide.

the sea, rushing,
its blue inks dissolving
in pools.

a cloud whispers
fragments of a dark song
to the sky.

the waves crashing,
crashing, crashing….

"Our love is a burden."

"Then it isn't real love."

it's her and her dogs
going for a walk, - the phone
hasn't rang, so why not?
they bark
she smiles
they snarl
she retracts the leash
But they're free.
Dancing without smoking.
A ballet of confusion.
Wave to the neighbors!
With a styrofoam cup she's holding
She's holding the leash,
She barks,
They dart back,
She smiles behind big sunglasses.
It's just her dogs and her
going on a walk.

he eats an orange
every night
before going
to bed

early morning
fades into
the stagnant
ache of summer
he waits

the pitted reflection
of the kitchen window
parts like skin
along the edge
of his knife