I sat at the edge
of the mountain

I looked out
at all the land

A winged creature
emerged from behind
the clouds

White feathered beauty,
delivering a message
from heaven.

There would be no
end to the
pain
and suffering
that love
on earth
could cause me.

Its talons grazed
my papery skin,
which ripped open
so easily.

I was bleeding out
into the soil,
as the vision
of a beautiful
bird
slowly flapped
its wings,
and flew
away.

I was a child, then.
When a stormy sea
filled the air with hope,
and salt.
And there were hills to climb,
to sit with you
at the very top,
in silent darkness.
Where we held our breath
and lied to ourselves,
about what was wrong
or right.

The years passed us by.
On that hill beside the ocean,
where we consummated
our long-awaited desires,
and I felt sparkles
on your lips;
The same hill under which
I found my reflection
in a muddy pool of water.
The grass beside it was so fine,
and so green.

A park bench at the top
of a sunset hike through
the native valley,
in full bloom—wildflowers
reflected our openness.
Sandpapery stubble
on your cheeks
matched the texture
between my thighs,
which I kept only for you
and nobody else.

The day I knew you would
never be back,
the empty voicemail box,
the repetition in rising
each morning, without you.

My eyes begged you,
Forgive me,
I know not with whom I speak,
you are but a mirage to me,
an oasis only existing
in the realm of my twisted mind.

My hands pleaded you,
come and love me,
show me what you have inside
that golden box,
you keep hidden behind
the headboard.

A light faded and
flickered
in the house across the street.
Up on the hill,
branches swayed peacefully
with the wind.
I succumbed
to your darkness.

A path which winds
through desert sands
is no path at all,
but a choice made each moment
with each aching footstep,
the song of a stream
in the distance,
was only a breeze
passing through the air.

The shadow of the man
that had appeared before
was no longer there.

Urgency was in your expression
as we hid underneath the sofa
in the final moments
of the party,
before you gave me away
to the dogs
for supper.

Somehow, my great escape
led me right back
to you.
But my fingers didn’t fit
between your garden gloves,
and your distracted gaze was fixed
on the traffic lights
outside the misted window.
All I saw,
was our condensation
on the glass
through golden lamplight
and the yellow bookshelves.

Through the abandoned sidewalks
under cypress trees
and fluorescent street lights
into the dark grassland,
where you chased
my favorite seabird,
and I scolded you like a child;
you ran ahead, searching
for more excitement.

But time had other plans,
it froze itself in that moment
your face became my mirror,
and I carefully touched
your lips with mine.
You pulled away,
tried again, and our
noses met, like two
wild animals
agreeing with a ritual
to raise new life
together.

midnight black arabian prince,
his neck, impressed by the wired
fence
holding him back forever
from the woman of his dreams.
        dark horse
they came for him in the evening
soft, dimming sunlight grazed his eyes
an endurance horse, for one hundred miles
they wanted him but
        he was lazy
his inclination was to stand still
to stroll slowly about a green pasture
forevermore
forevermore, his dream,
spent on his own name.

he fell in love with the mare
on the other side
of the wired fence
she teased him, an older woman,
awakened his rebel soul,
inspired to break out
of this arbitrary cage
his courage and his passion
only roused by love by desire
something a human would not understand
could not understand
not in the same way

he felt alone he felt trapped inside himself
so he tore down the fence,
cut his legs on the wires
just to be close to
       her
to brush his nose against her
sharpened spine, inhale the scent of
dust mixed with love mixed with
pheromones,
for only a moment
that could extend into
       forever
encapsulated in his memory
a snapshot: one piece
of chaotic bliss
amidst all that running
the flying floating cloud of dust
still chases him.

though he no longer runs in fear
no longer gallops away,
lazily trots, hooves dragging sand,
happy under his bold, italian rider
she doesn’t come around
often enough.
today he is young but
soon he will be aged by experience,
wherever they send him,
he has no real home,
only belongs to the night sky,
only matches the color of darkness,
i hope he remembers the way i tickled his lips and
fed him handfuls of dead grass.
he could be gone tomorrow because
animals do not choose their homes anymore.

Something in the atmosphere

I can smell it

I lie to everyone

“I’m doing well”

We talk about the weather.

Desperate efforts are made

To keep strong the dam.

To stay calm, to

Keep the river from overflowing.

It is, anyway, overflowing.

I will flood the space around me

You will all drown as I drown.

She,
A child, a witness,

Quiet;
and far away, too far to hear
close enough to see

blurred lines of
dark cement
****** sidewalk, and
silver pain that glides in swiftly,

Light that shines brighter than
all else behind
neon OPEN sign

flickering above
a man sleeping, and leaking into the gutter.