// when the waters came.//

when the waters came
over everything
did you run
or did you swim?

did angels come
as mermaids or dolphins
in oceanic guise
to save your skin?

did sirens sing
from the bluest deep
and did you listen
did you heed?

did you go back
to look for me
when all was dark
could you still see?

are you sleeping
with the fishes
do you love them
more than me?

they are limp
like fish
I turned them over
faces of shock and horror

you vanished
from the living
you are missing
from the dead.

every Spring
I walk along the shore
and when the waters come
and when the waters go
I hope they bring
you back to me.

// petty thieves.//

history is making her rounds again, a wayward spark to a fortress of hay.  set it ablaze, make it blitz, let it burn.  the contention is infinitesimal but not so the reaction; rousing the honey badger midway into her hibernation.

look away and hold the tongue, but her hands are unrestrained, quick to derision and manipulation; a mutilation of scabs and scars. she is throwing stabs from the shadows, just where it is barely visible.

all these over a copper coin.

// heart wants out.//

Such is the impatience!
of a hard beating heart
it cannot be confined
within these bony lines.

Great is its resilience!
breaking at the dam
a relentless battering
the chest cannot defend.

Oh how deep, the agony!
by leagues and binds
as gavel meeting block
is this heart to chest
sentencing words captive
that want to be expressed.

// The anticipation of inevitable separation.//

Slow; as the waning moon fades into the cloud-peppered sky, the incandescent rays of the emerging sun outshine her; she pulls the tides closer to her breast, and with every playful slap the waves grow taller; their fingers scratch deeper, away at the roots of trees.  Barely noticeable, till the waters soak our chests, and the sun too bright to cast our eyes towards the sky; we look away.

Inevitable; as the turn of spring to autumn to winter: the greens ease ever so subtly into a hue of orange and reds,  falling in a pendulous dance as changing winds whisper softly over them; eventually all that will remain is a bleakness of branches, stripped and bare, the melancholy of monochrome.  Avoidable, we refuse to come to terms with the eventuality, not until the final leaf makes for ground.

As two fabrics stitched together only to be pulled apart; the seamstress of time plays a cruel joke. 

// be my anchor.//

hold me down
and make me stay
wrap my heart
in anchor’s chains.

tether these lips
that tend to drift
between your teeth
until they bleed.

bind my hands
to yours alone
and fix my gaze
upon your soul.

keep me close
in your embrace
so I don’t fall
and I won’t fall away.

// ex-hypothesis.//

The first cut is never the deepest; it merely paves the way for the succeeding ones to reach further into the core.

// full of greetings; an empty show.//

We would meet under the auburn span of sky, the evening sun dipping into a blue grey horizon.  The waters do not boil, cities refuse to burn; all is calm as we watch Apollo drown, cocktails in our hands.

Soft howls manifest as winds caress our barely parting lips; they will mourn on our behalf, for we mask our tears.  Infinitely familiar, our weightless words flit reckless, carrying away with the drafts.

The moon reflecting a posthumous shine, bathes us in its glow, and under it we stare into the distance: in the dimly lit emptiness, a replay of the past, a melting candle flickering out of existence.