summer 2010

river

the red baloon
now
soars over an
indignant sunset-

where are you now?
( i miss your skin)
your gravity,
your love -

come back to me when
you are lonely
and know i did not
deceive

-----------------

dyshi

the air is thick.

we ride your motorcycle
through the
palpable winds of 71
north,
the engine hums and
roar
at different intervals,
and you reach back for me with
one hand,
as i let go of your side and
the seat -

the sun is racing us;
each mile you would check for me,
and i would
gingerly feel the
sweat of your spine in the billowy, hot space
and think of his face.

------------------------

honesty

am i
that transparent,
that vivid against a
lie?
that criminal,
that you couldn't give me,
your color
your world?

am i that
abrasive, that you couldn't
forget my name?

you don't love me

i have heard
too much advice
from lips to toes
months that go
from March til May
and back to
December days/

falling from the weight of your words
they go round and round
and to the floor they pull me
too close
nobody says it but
everyone knows/

and i,
i have heard
too much talk
from your eyes to your ears
from the shadow of your fears
that i sleep with
too many nights i sleep with /

i don't want to run with
empty promises no more
don't come to the door
i won't come back
no more/

you + me

January 7, 2010
3:11 pm

come March in the spring
i will have spent
enough moons to
shake off this frown -
you will belong to
someone else's shoulder,
dark and cinnamon,
wild and near;

come june and the sky
i will drive by the lake
smell the seagulls and their cries,
and i will have
lain enough battles down
saltwater and scabs
over miles and photos

and i will have
enough to get by
and i will have
spent too much time
and i will have
said my goodbyes

and i will have
said my goodbyes.

and so the story goes

i went snooping into the grounds
where my father laid his peace,
the house of small children
and little bitty white lies --

twenty years ago doesn't seem like
-- such a big loss,
but he has given up these tactics
for a much poorer life --

i see now his yes behind dark lashes,
they stare back at me when i
smear off mascara,
eye shadow,
all this dust.

i cannot give you the things you crave for,
the die that lands on one road,
and the choices between left + right
( i cannot tell you the places i've got to go,
you are all i have been
and my father disapproves.)

keep the ring.
feed your kid -
wash your sheets,
fix your car-
i will be waiting i,n the water,
sliding down your drinking glass.