Reach in


Patricia, before fame

Played for keeps.

Competition was her muse

She wrote her first book

Won the acalades she sought

Changed her face in surgeons chair

And still

In the pages of her, I read quiet despair

A pervasive loneliness in loose leafed characters

They screamed on her behalf, when she could only

Type help.

And
You, today, walking, lost

With large red dog 

And small foot tattoo

You had the same shape

An edge to your corners, as sharp as spite

A quietude and a silence, sadness set firm in your eyes.

I wanted to ask

Why?

Or reveal what I already knew 

In just having met, the corners and the distance

No match for feeling, across tow path

And into that personal space, where you laid your sorrow out

I smiled a great smile

Thinking …

Can a smile impart a hundred thoughts?

You passed, and the wetness of your loss

Felt like brief rain on my arm

Two strangers and a dog

It was as if it hadn’t happened

Yet

You reminded me so much of Patricia

And her emptiness, written throughout each story

You see … we recognize each other

As much as for who we are not, as our similarities

Strange bedfellows of perverse and solitary, mearly trying to tred water.

If I’d spoken more, I would have asked;

Do you walk through the high grass to see the butterflies?

Do you feel the sun before it gets too hot?

Will we walk in the same direction and in time perhaps …

Talk of how we came to choose, empty steps, over laughter

You never know

They could be everything, or perpetual stranger

A moment, and no more

Or the rest of your life.

Instead of pulling away, if you reached into them

Like leaves blown, will fall, one on top, one below

A path of many 

Creating singular

Direction.

Advertisements

Interpretation of sound

Your voice

Is a nest of time

First learning behind words

Their velvet center

Taking us both back to

Before I had language, listening to your

Interpretation of sound

I am the shell, come from the whorl of your ear

Talking to ourselves in drowsy pattern

We stitch close, layers forming billowing sails

As if all the world were a silken dream

And the smooth gust presses us into 

Everlasting attachment

Belonging


Though I am tired and these bones are not 

As green and supple

When you take me in your arms

I am both

Weightless and rooted

Looped through you as

Nimbly as young dancer

Soft as ribbon

Deep as water

Flowing 

Your nourishment

My salve

The stars could abscond

And if you were there to comb

Stretching into universe’s surround

Finger by finger

Stroke into stroke

Moving against the other 

As light is extinguished

Gently we fold

Close in sleeping lotus

Each the echo 

Each the sound

Of belonging

Remember

As you age invisibly within your glass

sometimes you forget that time, so long past

when desire welled in your heart and between your loins

like fast, sound breaking barrier

it seems like another person inhabited those limbs

another life captured the longing

to pull them close and within, before flame grew dim

sometimes it is good to be mindful, remember then

the girl you were, bracing for rejection

spending your longing on the long gamble

sometimes, you’d catch a ride on the upside

in that golden arc of wheel, when fortune seemed

impossible to smother

lovers would become eternal

a kiss would reveal the language behind your skin

all the cries you stored inside, chiming for their flight

stroked like an instrument, you gained wings

fingers playing you deep, as river bed will

sift and edy before

releasing her secrets

sometimes, as you turn your fingers in imagination

against the cast of shadow, splayed on plaster

and build within your mind, the press and assault of love

coursing in your veins, as you lie beneath the world

sometimes, as you conjur that first unspoken swallow

of all salinated emotion and the convulsion to follow

inhabiting one another, like thirsty fish struck from sea

will gather close and preserve their need

sometimes, when I think of your fingers stroking my ink

the weight of you, capturing all I am capable of bringing

our motion resonating against mirrors of time

and in the gathering dusk, a mutual cry

folding over sleep, like pressing lips will open

just enough for feeling

then, as I recall the need for you

it is an empty and lovely feeling, of past and new

to walk through time, held aside in wash

O for love and her nourishment

just once, again, your touch, where I have grown parched

asuage the feeling, no-one has climbed inside me, to make their homage

an electricity of joining, cast far into dark waters, dark hearts

Iluminary, please light the way once more

that I can lie salt-blessed, on reversing shore

feeling your claim again, as a flung open door

with warp of sea breeze, denying closure evermore

Root

tumblr_static_art-woman-shapes-patterns-fantasy-gothic-red-portrait-painting-surrealism-headdressOnce long ago

I tried to get you out

from under my skin

and it felt like webbed hands without dexterity

scrabbling beneath waves for fallen stones

 

You

are as much of me as anything could

you’ve become in all these years

my root

 

I heard those who favor

the taste of earthbound vine

drink from what grows beneath

surface

 

That is true of you and I

we shift like light

silvering between spectrum

attached in unison

in the solace of a penny

tarnished surface, shiny beneath

inhabiting the hidden side

of each other

Ruffled sleeves

couv70586873You age up, your desires age down

you’d be too old for me now

but then when I was barely grown

you looked so good in your thirty-ish suit

the jaw line of age beginning to show

just enough to create a stirring, I wonder …

something deeply sensual in a confident woman

who has lived enough to feel

comfortable in her own brand of skin

I longed to touch the lapel of your shirt

or where your cuffs peaked out ruffled

little moments

your perfume lingering

the sound of heals on carpet

fading as you were accompanied

by a tall man to lunch

how could a girl just out of her teens compete?

I considered the movements of love

like Tai Chi, a gentle push

if you can sweep past obvious attributes

aren’t they also found in the twilight?

when you let me light your cigarette

and notice how close

I stand

our heat merging

the touch without touch, of energy

he may have spent a lot on lavish outings

but sharing wine from a plastic glass

on a warm night in the park

I touched where your heart beat

querulous against your tanned wrist

pressed to my lips

you sighed

more than you ever had

when he with his obvious methods

tried to beckon you near

sometimes birds flock in one motion

drawing out light of day

as I close the blinds and walk

a perfect line of longing

to the bed and

your nude warmth

waiting

How to still hold on

acfbdb31f6540cf18d73e567bbe1ba25It has ever been my way

to wonder

where two lovers part

one walking slow in thought

unrolling absence and rope-burned tug

how to transform

from one coronation cup held aloft

in morning air

a magic carpet of crisp hopefulness

to shrugged farewell

asking

what of me do you take

with you?

back we go

packing our footsteps

the rifle of life cocked

ticking down the seconds

pressed in dormant gunpowder

could be we swim on golden pond

just as dawn makes autumn a yellow girl

emerging from water and light

spilling from her need

imagine that

our shared thoughts holding each other

no distance separating unified hearts

of those who know when separate

how

to still hold on