she stretches out before me
a feast of art and possibility
both wicked and wanting
elegant and evocative

I want to kiss her full on the mouth
my tongue eager for her exquisite
all of me aches to explore
leave nothing uncharted

she rewards my curiosity
begs me to roam
there is no denying
the knowing in my bones
it echoes from my soul
with her

I am home

There are moments in
my life that are
too wild and
beautiful to be
tamed or captured by
words or sentences.
Musical notes could
do a better job at
conveying the experience.
D minor
or C sharp major.

My mind replays
the moments,
alive with pentatonic scales
and the taste of homemade
apple cider, and pomegranate
security.
I smell the burning leaves of
late October, and feel
the smooth nose of my
childhood Appaloosa, her
dappled coat, and trusting eyes.

Sometimes the world, and
all its goodness
stupifies me, and leaves
my spirit rocking gently in
a cradle, where I know it's
all going to be okay.

Before it was lowered over
the broken city grid and
became my second house
it was a meadow where
the grasses grew tall.

I watched the top shell of earth
being moved and hauled away,
saw everything leveled to sand,
except a thick, distant  forest with a
thin stream that bled to the city park—

and did not shed a single tear.
All I knew that this was  my reward
for surviving sickness and storms,    
my final place to rest and settle my bones,
a place without a history of battles.

After the house’s first shudder and mud
had splashed my face did I know that the
soil always tasted of the slow dying of birds
who lived a long time in the air and bequeathed
their bones to the sky- flesh, blood to the dirt.
.

The white light of my bathroom  
reaches down through the steam,
breaks yellow through the shower door.
I scrub my skin, try to scratch loose
all the sour, stinging memories inside,
hope the grime would disappear
in the porous mat under my feet.
The steam flows like a host of ghosts
into the vent fan-  leaves behind
only  the face of tomorrow
in my  mirror’s reflection.

While all of my friends will tell me no,
I say yes because I can't watch you go.

While all of my friends won't like you at all,
You're quite the catch, and it's worth the fall.

And though I've just met you, I can't help it, you see,
I'm thinking about you, hoping you're thinking about me.

The small town,
Perfect place to sit and watch life go by.
The high school halls,
Wide and barren,
Perfect place to waste away.

my hair tie slips
two stories down
with my cat nestled under my chin
I don’t attempt to catch it  
there’s a magnolia tree across
deciding if it is safe to blossom
one more time before summer is over
I turn in, berlioz playing from the tv
Projector stars mottle my ceiling
my hair tie is still outside
somewhere in the dirt
the city air clings to my T-shirt
and my floor has never felt more comfortable
tomorrow I shouldn’t call out from work
tomorrow I’ll tell the light company
To keep my lights on
Tomorrow I’ll find the hair tie
and with it wrapped around my wrist
I’ll agree to live again