to you. Couldn't swim in cornflower
lakes of blooming mistakes. Drowned
as the ice cracked this body. Built
me a soddy that sank in the banks

of the Pio. You lost your brio
and sleeve. Cleaved to the past
when this woman could skate a diamond
lake. Spin and circle figure

eights. Pirouettes on tattered
crimson tutus. Stood on battered tiptoes
for you. Now the only lines that rhyme
is tequila mixed with lime.  And salt

the shot glass. The bloat turns out
as gas. Passing on cornflower
lakes. The fallen leaves bid to be raked
and bagged. Conversations nipped/not dragged.

in the gut
with a fist full of apples
from the trunks of his eyes,
cutting me in pieces

like ma's hot pies. Burnt as the
flambe', sliding off him, like whipped
cream. All part of a sick girl's
dream. Like Swiss cheese,
you can stick your finger through

the holes in me. The floating
noodle in the soup. Lying flat
and soggy, a clucking chicken
in the coop. Sitting on the

eggs. Thought I'd crack,
or less be scrambled. I shouldn't
have gambled on the man. Should
have seen the cleaver and ran!

you passed. But where
did you go? Did you melt
in the sun like the April
snow? Were you passed

around a cherry wood table
like brown giblet gravy? Were you able
to travel for miles like
the Navy? Were you passed

like a football to all the team
players? Were you wrapped
like a mummy in layers upon
layers? Did you pass as the wind

beneath eagle wings? Do you
laugh at the things that
you worried about? Are you no longer
hurried/like a candle blown out?

of flypaper
hanging on the walls

floating in the air
trapped in bathroom stalls.

And every fly
that whizzes by

is intoxicated with
my sweet perfume.

But little do they know
they're flying to their doom!

on wafer-thin ice.
He slipt and fell,
not once, but twice.
And the sun shone on

that pine forest pond.
The sun wore spandex
and was strawberry blonde.
And as he held her, a stick of butter,

the ice cracked
as his legs did flutter.
His arms flail
like the sail on a schooner.

And no sooner
had I said so,
he froze full frantic.
And sunk just like the great Titanic.

inside my head. He's a child I cannot
put to bed. He'll not sleep. He's up
all night, asking for a glass of water,
starting a fight. He wakes me up at

three o'clock. He knocks on
my bedroom door. He stomps his feet
on my floorboards. I rise to the sound
of him. He's blended in my morning

coffee. Sticks to me like butter
toffee. Even the crimson leaves let
go before the December snow. Why do I
still remember? It's been years since that

September. January floats my breath in
billowing clouds that don't lose their steam.
A paper princess cannot scream. He's just
an imitation of my imagination.

are sneakers
that run
faster than a bullet
shot from a gun

My eyes
are icicle fountains
an avalanche
sliding down a mountain

My eyes
are rivers
that rapidly flow
into a sea
of covered snow

My lashes
windshield wipers
that grow heavy
like baby diapers

My pupils
a dark abyss
since I fallen
dilate and hiss