her, I

Spiraling to soil in deep, concentric circles,Yesterday's words seem to bloom asDaffodils or Sunflowers- Roses left unattended,Neatly kept under glass hoods, waiting patiently for years;Every new syllable seems to drip with intoxicating sensualityYes, a soft whisper for two: felt and never heard

Self Portrait 1

Sitting still in the quiet of the snoring deep back ex-study,purpled sky double down and pockedSnow packed and drifty as dreams on the tongueSqueachy rubbersoled double-knot weatherproof winterboots ooze their trekked tale slowly into the carpets ear;looking for, no, sifting through the... stop.rummaging around between folds of grey matter, electricity, somewhere between there seems to be … Continue reading Self Portrait 1

Waiting for the Words (time slippage)

Time slips idly by me, as if it were some child shushing, hushing and tip-toeing to the balcony's overlook into the living room, early on some Christmas morning the small toes forgetting the intention of the creep by the excitement of taught, reflective wrapping paper. And I sit, thinking simply about how to express my … Continue reading Waiting for the Words (time slippage)

Lost in the Traffic

so many so sad faces in a was of movement a jaw stretching a large, pink gob of gum, annoyed, sad, hands white on the wheel, eyes out the window, a neck sagging under the weight of time and children's sticky fingers stretching skin down GRavity, missed opportunities, regrets; and focus, so much focusing, re-focusing, … Continue reading Lost in the Traffic