I work with knots,
loosen ends from ends,
careful not to snag
or break fragile cords,
intricate tangles of silken affairs.
But the ends unravel
as I release tension,
and I find myself knotting the ends again.
Over and over, I bind and unbind,
until the cycle lashes out
like a madwoman in desperate straits.
I want to write the wrongs, right them,
straighten them into one long, lengthy rope,
then try my luck again.
Find strands that won't untwine;
create the perfect notaffair.

I lay upon cold steel, blinding lights loom
above my head. I hear my brain
confirm 'minor surgery' and then you
enter the room, scalpel in hand, aimed
at my chest. Not there! my mind screams,
then I feel the burn of ripped flesh;
a repugnant stench fills the room, a familiar smell,
the sickening, salty odor of blood.
Bones and cartilage moan as the scalpel shreds
with swift precision, one target in mind:
a fist-sized beating *****. Extraction.
I raise my head from frosted steel
in time to see your deed: ****** fingers,
clinched into claws, dive into the open cavity,
gouge holes into either side and wrench
the tiny ***** from its cave.
You hold it high above your head, a trophy;
crimson drips down your arm, soaks
a white sleeve like spilt wine on lace; you open
a glass jar, formaldehyde mixes with drops of blood
as the ***** plunges into your solution

As snow does to a fire, lull them asleep among the foliage;
between the oleander beautiful as snow;
like dragonflies threading! he sings and the woods sing!

In the wine of daylight the willows shiver:
- its coolness on my feet, the star has wept rose-colour.
The wolves howl back with great conquering black eyes.
- from violet forests: where the stars are sleeping.

The black gallows moan, on the calm black water
embroidered with black moss and the horizon rushes
and the murmuring waters came snowing;

I no longer feel myself; I have seen maelstroms eternal,
of the sea star-infused and the yellow-blue awakenings
the scented twilight, of silver waves.

There's no room for a butterfly
in this half-wacked world he's created.
He even ***** the color out
Of rainbows after rain, destroying
Both foliage and flower;
Now nothing sacred has a place to land.
He just wants to keep this butterfly
pinned on display, to study it, deny it freedom.
But when it escapes, (and it will)
it will find beauty again
far away from his captive world.

Fast, hot windows quickly love a small, small flower.
Walk loudly like a cold light.
Ooh, love!
The light runs like a dry rain.
Workers work!

Whales rise like sunny clouds...
Life, courage, and endurance,
Sail quietly like a rainy sun.

You’ve slapped me emotionally
Beaten me to a pulp; twisted
Your words until I dropped
From exhaustion; degraded.
You may as well have taken a knife
And ripped my heart out, left
It bleeding … You spoke
Of reconciliation, begged
For forgiveness, but I know
It was all about karmic revenge.

A year ago I left you for her
Loved and lived freely
For six whole months,
But you couldn’t even last
A month with the wild child
You chose to take to our bed.
You claim you feared her…
With her black arts, she cursed you,
Left so much negative energy
Surrounding you… will you
Ever recover? Will we?