before. And shall be said
again. That friends can turn into
lovers. But lovers cannot turn
into friends. I cannot talk to you
without wanting to kiss your

strawberry wine lips. I cannot walk
beside you without wanting my hands
around your lean square hips. I cannot
look up at the stars without seeing

them in your shiny chestnut
eyes. No matter how long it's been
I cannot cut these ties. I cannot
pretend it doesn't pain me

to see you with another
woman. I don't like to be
like this. But this heart in my
breast has turned wooden as
a spoon. Without your warm

caress nothing sticks like the snow
in June. I still lose my breath when I look
at you. Guess I'll go to my death
without saying these two little words “I do.”

break off their golden
bright leaves when it suits
them. And the red rose
drops its petals as it

hangs its head low. And the acorns
fall from the sky as the robin flies
heading south for the winter. And bark
on the branches splinter. And day

grows black as night, as the sun
skips out of sight.  So, why do I
hold on?  The trees are bare
and sun gone. Every flower bloomed

has died. Even the emerald
green grass had dried and turn
to seed.  So, why don't I take
their lead and leave you?

hung out to dry
on a long clothesline. Blowing
in the ***** wind and pinned
to a memory. I was

just a tight rose bud before
the rain turned this to mud. I
was white as a beluga. And he
even smoother. The only

ties were the ribbons around
my chestnut tresses, long before the lies
he dresses up in pearls. The years faded
this baby girl. And I cannot say I miss them

any more than I miss the leaves
that hastily blown off the backyard
maple trees. All shall bloom, as flowers do,
when spring sees this winter through.

like the frozen ground
in winter. And it shows in
the branches, bare and
splintered. Scattered into

shards all over my back
yard. I only weep now in
icicles. They circle
under my eyes like bicycle

wheels, leaving their tracks on
my face. But I don't feel. My skin's
a suit of armor. I wear it like a farmer
wears his overalls, tightly up against

his *****. And this head is so
heavy. It sits on my neck like a Colorado
Chevy. Some days it drives right off,
like rainwater on the trough.

in me today. My get up
and go has run away. My mind's
spinning circles like a spinning
wheel. I cannot jot down

what it is I feel. My fingers lie
flatly on the keys. My eyes looking
out the window at the bare naked
trees. The branches scratch

my windowpane that's coated
in this morning's rain. And the blankness
on my lab top screen is snow white. So, today
is a day I don’t think that I’ll write!

like sap from the maple
tree. You tapped into the core
of me. I poured myself out
to you under skies of cornflower

blue.  Runny as a stuffy nose,
the kind you like to blow. Pushed
out like a sneeze. You always were
a tease. Runny as dripping ice

cream from a sugar cone, sticking
to your hand, in your lap I land. Melting
as the April snow. Runny as shampoo
in the shower, down your face

across your chest, your back
and legs, a foamy dress. As I swirl
my way down the drain I'm less
and less.

like a pack of howling wolves,
with their heads pointing to the
moon. But you lied back flat like
a porcelain plate against a midnight sky

of spate. Your prickly shadow hung
down on me. I called to you my twin,
moaning like the wind wrapped around
the evergreens. You slipped through

like a breeze. And expelled
me in a sneeze. I called you in
a Midwest phone booth. It was like
pulling a tooth loose to get you to

answer. You spread contempt
just like a cancer. I speak to you now,
without paragon or violence, without
face or guidance, in silence.