the water in the
Clawfoot bathtub
is red and full of blood
and petals cut like knives
in the water

it’s sunny
light filters through the curtains
filters through blood draining

floral bedspread
and okra on a paper plate
cabernet
the wooden floor creaks
enter you

the dusk in the living room
bounces off walls

this is the house I built
this is forever

crumbling walls
and flames
*welcome home

That night we uncorked the moon
champagne stars burst forth,
incandescent among the heavens.
We conversed with the Gods.
Swung like children upon their laughter.
Endless drunken words hung from lips
like jewels on the neck of Aphrodite.
Amorous and intoxicated,
we, the ephemeral veins,
uncorked the moon
and found ourselves among stars.

there is a shift
in light the universe
the curve of your face
call it Doppler shift
light changes color
in your grey irises
the way sound changes pitch
in your insistent breath

galaxies and their stars
like interlaced fingers
the galaxies farthest
are moving faster
away from the Milky Way
and your grey irises
galaxies run
bright blue
tremble in the void
caress sky lightly

space drifts and presses
on space
leaves behind
nothing but more space
the way
marble tile in a museum bathroom
echoes in your grey irises

she added little lights to the corners
so she could see
she was in springtime
as the lilies and asters in the breeze
green grasses and tea leaves
welcomed the night in warmth

Drown me in floral and hope
And dip me in my mother's blood
Since its in me anyway