when that strange man in the park
asked me if love could cause physical pain
i told him that i fell in love with a smile
once
a smile that lassoed and squeezed my heart and lungs
until they were one boiling *****

a smile that buried into my back
pulled out the pink shy parts
i paid an expert to destroy
pink devils
i cried into my cousins shoulder on autumn benches
pink tears

i fell madly pinkly in love with a smile
plucked like a fish from dark winter water
admired
looked after
worthy of inspection
smiling breath on my scales and back
where the pink between them is apparent

then hurled back into winter water
where the day discharges slowly over the grass
in the courtyard.

i told that strange man in the park
my pink insides fizzle-pop like meat on
the summer sidewalk
when i imagine the smiling angler
making that next pull

admiring and smiling
cradling the back like a
pink chalice

That one thinks it's first catch.
As did I. Dark lip burn marks
On the pink.
Physical Pain.

Your holey         conscience is
waiting
for           you
                                in the shower.

Oh, marvelous maker of maps,
Do not deny
that you too are lost.

I was real quiet when
I closed
              that door.
You smile like bro-ken glass
and walk like the newspapers left on subway benches-
we've watched them        float
like dandelion seeds
while the train brought in its
catch of businessmen.
Do you remember?

I was real quiet, understand,
when I wept and you were sleeping
there beside me.

Do you know you talk in your sleep?
It's wonderful and terrifying-
you are screaming and crying
and reaching like a newborn,
and I want to save you.
I want to lift you
up and out
with my kisses
and my arms.

But I touch,
and you're wide awake.

You stare, and I stare,
and I want to tell you I love you,
and that I'll kiss you up and out,
but you've already closed
                                             that door.

Some days I'm afraid of
-the wall-

From the here-and-now
I can hear the music and
feel the rumblings of trees
shooting
up
beyond the brick
and running ivy.

I can hear the laughter of
friends and children and a lover
I have yet to love
fizzling through the cement cracks.
It's just a whisper when it reaches me,
but I want to know them
so badly.

Silhouettes in orange windows
of tall and beautiful buildings
dance, because they have time to dance,
and they know that dancing is important,
and I want to dance with them
so very badly.

I know I'm over there too,
leaning on that wall,
watching the sun
setting on something wonderful
while I sit
in this bivouac,
Here-and-Now.

He's leaning
and breathing,
and dreaming of the
sunset eclipsing wall,
and drinking in the light
like a fish,
and I want to know him
and dance with him
because I have time to dance.

I want him to remember me
so badly,
when he's leaning and smiling
and dancing in beautiful buildings
and loving, and being loved.

Some days I'm afraid of
-the wall-
but I know the sun is setting on something
beyond my view.

And even if the sun simply lingers for a few
moments more on
some empty vista,
I will smile and lean
and love every contour
with all of my being.

Eloïse wears too much makeup
And a bright red scarf
To the supermarket
Because she’s invisible.
She could feel herself
Melting away like a birthday candle.
With every new gray hair.
The colour of her lips and eyes
Drained out like oil
Into her blue veins
Which ran like maps of
Cities she’d traveled to
And loved within.

Eloïse wears too much makeup
And a bright red scarf
To the supermarket
But they still don’t see Her.