Thursday, June 17, 2010


I feel terminally soft
pink skin golden flesh peach fuzz soft
my heart ripe like high summer fruit
my soul cool and rippled as a spring thaw creek
first clinging tendril of creeping vines
sweet pea paper petals
cat noses pink paw pads concealing claws
soft down pillow
sinking down to the belly of me
flesh yielding
subtle bone protruding
desperate ache of tenderness
don't push to hard
thumb bruise
chewed up
spit out
where do I put my heart
how do I preserve its pulsating flesh
dripping juicy softness
in your world of hard edges
fast words
crushing bleeding blows?
slicing flesh cleaving flaming hot anger
desperate disparate devastating
here I am ripe and ready for love
there you are looking to fight
how can I lay myself down in front of you
allow you to devour me in one bite
chewing swallowing without tasting
how can I?

you are hard like smooth glass
cold like metal
sharp like knives

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

the guest room

tonight i slept in the guest room
because you last slept there
the sheets had been changed
the bed had been stripped
but you still linger
you that I should not love
you that I should not want
you that is all but yes
and how do I explain the ghost of you
imprinted in this room
imprinted on my heart
wafting in like a warm evening breeze
rolling over my brow
caressing my cheek
I don't know where you are tonight
where in this vast world you are sleeping
some hotel in some town west of me
but tonight I sleep with you
the ghost of you
in my guest room

Saturday, June 12, 2010


spring has not sprung but slid in like a night crawler
I smell her in the garden but cannot see her in the sky
the faint tweet of nesting bushtits should be a sign they are no longer flocking
but pairing up like high schoolers at the dance
unlike so many springs past which fell into my lap like a token, fully formed and redolent,
this one has slipped, tripped and false started
on a cold morning I discovered the first origami sheaves of the hostas unfurling their sleeves
like geisha undressing
then the fiddle heads first brown and nubby then pale green and hopeful unwound their tendrils into the late winter
and I thought really? so soon? its too gray outside still
how will you breathe in all this heavy sodden air?
but the waxy new leaves of the lemon trees reach up
cradling the tiny flowers whose perfume, mingling with the wisteria
makes for a heady flower bomb one cannot bottle or buy
so instead of a full blown ecstasy of scent sight and sound
no grand opening no season premiere the red carpet was not rolled out for this years vernal debut
perhaps it is natures recession
no grand expense paid no bonuses doled out
if you want to enjoy this spring you must seek her out in the shadows
turn under the stones and find the moss stand in her midst and breathe her in
and feel the nuance that has escaped our oh so brash and expectant selves
I have turned into a consumer american with no patience and no work ethic
I want it all at once handed straight to me
this spring is teaching me that some things take time and must be born slowly
it is a metaphor of my own painful and lengthy birth
I came into this world tentatively and did not fully embrace it all at once
I needed time to adjust to the new light
the new scent the new air
so I will embrace this new child called spring
coax her out slowly into the light
take her in slowly one new miracle at a time
I will take my time getting to know this shy and complicated girl

Friday, June 11, 2010

So now what?

The love was confessed, but I was rebuffed, so now what?
The attraction was mutual but I was rebuffed, so now what?
"So thats really is no" I said, quoting Anna Scott
"Yes, it really is"
I was told it was impractical. I was told it was unacceptable. I was told how flirting was cheating and although it felt good it was wrong. I was told it wasn't really about her. But then why is she all I think of? Why is she all I see?
WHy do I wonder after her? Where is she? What is she doing? How can I further engage her? How can I reel her back in?
My mind is a factory of plans and ideas, of tortuous schemes, plotting and twisting and seeking. I look two years down the road, I imagine my way back to her, staring at picture of her, I have memories of things that haven't happened yet
I taunt, I flatter, I flirt, I weave a web of seduction. Should I have admitted it at all? Should I have played the tune longer, stretched it out farther? slip it over the two of us like a silk sheet?

Monday, June 7, 2010

I see you too

For as long as I can remember, I have been living an invisible life
doing all that I can to remain unnoticed,
unremarkable and unseen.
Never shining, never garnering laurels,
I worked, ascended, but only so high.
I made acquaintances of my friends,
settled for much less.

Quietly my soul shrank into a shadow life,
an occasional glimpse of the divine, fleeting, transitory, meaningless.

Of course the irony was that all the while I was hiding,
I was in plain sight, obvious, evident, visible to all those that chose to look.

And when I came to my senses,
and my heart pushed open,
through the fortress of my chest,
when the door to my soul opened,
and a beam of light shone in,
the face I saw through the crack was yours.

And then I realized, you had always known, always seen,
and when what you saw was me, you hadn't looked away,
but instead, quite remarkably, unexpectedly,
you smiled, a soft and knowing smile, as if to say
"there you are...I've been waiting for you".

To be seen, to be known, to be loved,
the thing I ran from so fast, so far,
buried myself under,
it was there,
all the while,
all my effort was mere charade,
a child in a monster suit, a puff of smoke, a spirit in the night,
I fooled no one but myself.

And what now?
Here I am, laid bare, with my wet stain heart thumping its new rhythm,
unstable on my new legs,
blinded with my new eyes,
a hatchling, scrubbed clean, naked.

To you I may be just one more girl with adoring eyes,
but to me, you are an elixir,
the new air I breathe, the dewdrop on the grass,
the pause between lightening and thunder,
the face of G-d.

I want to drink you in,
pour you over me, glide naked in you,
submerge myself in your grace.

I want to possess you, and have you possess all of me.

It is but mere fantasy, a crush, a new, first love.
For what I see is not in fact you, it is me, mirrored in you.

Your compassion is my compassion, your tenderness is my tenderness,
your love but a reflection of mine.

You have seen me and my soul has found its home.

And now that I have found you, my soul friend,
my anam cara,
how I miss you, long for you.
So far away from me.
So illusive. So out of reach.

Are you as terrified as I am?
that I just might see you too?

I see you too.
And she is beautiful.