Rough hands on skin of silk
calloused and full of stories
he’s eager to use me as his canvas
he wants to make me his latest
masterpiece of love and
I accept in hopes he'll keep me
for his private collection

morning breaks through
more dreams of the same
and I whisper to you another night terror

the room is too cold you breathe
and pull me closer to your warmth
into the sunlight

dreams of horror
when your touch is so near

perhaps in life when you have everything
sadness is always a dream away
waiting to be felt

Left alone with my chardonnay and nicotine,
He walks out the door with a smile on his face and a pep in his step
And I slide down into the cushions and swish the sweet nectar over my tongue and teeth.
He’ll be back, my cigarette is almost to the filter and I flick the stick at the eye sore on my bookcase.
Flitting around town he’s getting his fill on Jack and Jim, making twilight friends out of strangers.
I listen to the floors creak and the couple below me start to scream at each other.
Early summer’s heat is taking its toll. Time will pass as it always does.
I light another cigarette and the hours drone on. A knock on the door snaps me out of my melancholy.
Familiar pools of green are looking at me from the door way. He wasn't gone long.
Dark patterns have formed on his shirt and he wears a crown of sweat.
He handed me a bottle and the chill sent lightning through my fingertips.
The quarrelers below have exchanged their harsh words for lustful moans and I pour two glasses.
Are you in trouble?
What makes you think that? He sips his ***** and holds his hand out to me. I give him mine and his lips rest softly on my knuckles.
You're never home this early. He looks hurt, but flashes me that winning smile and takes me in his arms.
Our body heat could scorch this earth.
I look over to my full glass and sigh.
Another glass wasted..

Flipping the switch
filling the room of regrets, mistakes and fears
with light.
I'd forgotten about this place.
I abandoned it long ago,
but it still exists.
Did I think this space and its contents would disappear?
I guess a girl could hope.
Foolish.
Turning the lights off only hides these things.
Who have I been trying to kid?
They've been here all along.
I told myself this place is toxic.
Maybe I should visit more often.

Swept up leaves in the wind
weightless and unruly against their own wishes
now explode with beauty only to
dull and decay like the
fading hearts who turned with the seasons
yearning for the lightness once felt
when all was in bloom as they
wait in the windows for
life again

I’m not sure I believe
that one day the void will close,
the glass will be filled
and all will smell of roses
with the sky lightened by
another new morning

better to have loved and lost,
easier said than done,
adrift in the tide with our
memories washing against me

The inevitability of the kiss
of sea and sand
seems less romantic
and more a nuisance
now an endless cycle all too familiar

never entering my mind that
the day would come
when I’d be drained of all hope
for the rekindling of what was

and god, we really were something

I'm a nutjob waiting to be cracked
by someone with the decency and will
to put me out of my misery
my floors are ***** and though it
drives me crazy
instead of sweeping I
just stare at the piles of **** and
steam blows from my ears
I'm like that in the way where fixable
things get my blood boiling yet I
won't be the one to get it done
what's the point
another pair of shoes will drag in
more dirt tomorrow
I say I'll sweep then
It'd be more realistic to say
I'll just stare