Small metal beads hum
under my skin.
I wake up anxious
before my alarm,
my heart against my chest.

My stomach is full of *****,
something moves inside.

To swallow my vitamins I
clamp my hand over my mouth
while squeezing my eyes shut.
I gag and feel
for a second.
Afterwards I
sip more water.

As water enters my body
in large doses I get waves
that wash up through my knees
and leave through my forearms.  

Eventually my lips get cold.

There’s something burning on the
Blackout strip of highway.
Light and movement
Frozen in a momentary
Dance.

Her eyes are wide and full
Of the emptiness that
Looms before her.

Nothing moves
And I step with it,
Carefully
Through the
Shards of suspended glass
That slice open the freezing night
Air.

Metal is bent and crushed
Against itself.
But for now, the
Ripple of the
Fatal shockwave
Stands
Still.

Her eyes are wide and full
Of the light tearing,
Imposing
Through the windshield
Into what remains of her mind.

I feel the moment
Of absolute stillness
Beginning to slip and I open the
Door.
Detach her soul with a
Kiss gentler
Than Life could ever
Offer
To save her from
The crushing mayhem.

Take her into my arms. She
Sleeps, as they all do,
Her head against my chest.
I turn away.
I leave the scene of force and
Fragility and, with my
Only mercy
Cradled in my arms,
Have no power but to let the
Scene behind me
Attack itself and
Consume.

The inner storm,
The calamity within...
The rumble,
The bang,
The drop of a pin.
The ringing in my ears,
That never would stop.
The boiling,
The melting,
The breakdown,
The pop.

A break in the clouds,
Let in rays of sunlight.
A new sense of normal,
Where all wrongs seem so right.

Love lives beyond the tomb,
And earth, which fades like dew!
I love the fond,
The faithful, and the true.

Love lives in sleep:
’Tis happiness of healthy dreams:
Eve’s dews may weep,
But love delightful seems.

’Tis seen in flowers,
And in the morning’s pearly dew;
In earth’s green hours,
And in the heaven’s eternal blue.

’Tis heard in Spring
When light and sunbeams, warm and kind,
On angel’s wing
Bring love and music to the mind.

And where’s the voice,
So young, so beautiful, and sweet
As Nature’s choice,
Where Spring and lovers meet?

Love lives beyond the tomb,
And earth, which fades like dew!
I love the fond,
The faithful, and the true.

They bribed me with promises of Audis and poverty reduction.
A six-figure salary, insurance, and free weekends.

They lured me with Prada bags, Chanel Shades and scarves by Hermes.
Vacations in Nice, transits in Paris, and business trips to Beijing.

They said I could meet the Dalai Lama, Bill Gates and the Queen of England,
have wine with Sarkozy, break bread with Al Gore, and kiss Prince William.

They dangled real men, real love and post-marital affairs in front of me
and gave me dreams of seven husbands and no divorces.

They convinced me to grow up and walk across the stage,
and their promises made me smile as I crossed over to the other side.

Today, I lay in my hammock wishing they’d promised me a job as well.

They never spoke, but every time she walked into the train
He reflexively slid to the left and made room for her.
And they would travel together sitting one hand width apart.
He drummed his perfectly crooked fingers on his left thigh,
like a horse that galloped towards an unknown destination.
She clasped and unclasped her hands, and
chewed on the dry skin of her bottom lip.

She always switched off her phone before getting on the train.
She assumed he did too because no one ever disturbed their unsaid conversations.
The old man singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand provided the sound track to their journey.
Yet the most endearing sound was that of him sliding his right foot from side to side.
The soft scraping sound soothed her more than any song ever had.

The train ride lasted twenty-five minutes every night,
during which, in her mind they got married,
went to Vienna for their honeymoon,
and had three children: twin boys and a girl,
who grew up to be the perfect balance between the two of them.

His stop came before hers and
She wondered if one day he would miss his stop and
Ride with her to hers.
He knew her beginning and she knew his end.
She may never know any more
But that didn’t matter because for twenty five minutes a day,
all she needed was the soft scraping sound from his right foot sliding from side to side.