Brushstrokes

She painted her balloons
Over and again,
Filling the shapes on canvas
With brilliance in color,

Decorating the landscape
With intricacies
Matching her whimsy.

Feverishly,
She laid oil to linen.
Desperately,
She watched and waited
For her tiny, rotund visions to levitate,
Flying off the easel entirely.

And I replied,
“Oh, Honey,
Hasn’t anyone ever lied to you before?”

The Judge

In the distance
A dog barks.

She is pulled towards consciousness,
Rising from a fitful sleep
With perspiration
Veiling her clammy skin.
The night was hard
And the adversaries she fought

Were neither visible nor tangible yet.

Echoes pound
Within her ears.

The animal
Is persistent.

Moon

Shadows fill
Deep valleys
Along the curve of her spine,
Running forth down her back,
Without light,
Like the steady nighttime currents
in a riverbed.

Gumball

I deposit my affections
Like the silver of a coin,
Cranking the dial clockwise,
Happy to be passing time,
Strung up in all the
Anticipation and excitement but
Your words
come
tumbling
out,
Brittle, hollow, lacking,
Like unrewarding, stale
treats from this gumball machine.

Molt

She screamed and retched,
Then peeled her skin back
and touched her truth.

Flames

My eyes,
Like the world,
Are wide and burning bright.

Fire & Talons

Your light

Burned so ferociously
And bright
I felt your warmth
Far before

I saw your fire

In mid flight
For reasons unknown
You caught me in the fury of your wings
And in marvelous wonder
I let myself

Be gripped

Within the strength of your freedom

And your free soul
It was electrifying
So much so that your fire ignited lightning

And what burned inside me
Was so pale and weak in comparison
I was scorched by this ignition

I had hoped instead
To have my own flames fanned
But the power of yours
With your free soul fueling it

Engulfed me

I was useless against its bounty
And burning willingly
To a crisp
Having no power to tame such a force as this

Though fascinated and mesmerized
Like a moth to a flame
I was seared at the touch
Like a child to a hot stove

Rather than letting the shock of it
Travel through me inspiring strength

I was weakened
Unprepared and unfamiliar
With this capacity

And so I fell

And you
With your wingspan and your flames and your spirit
Trumping mine in size and liberality

What could you do
But let me fall

I would not have carried my own weight in flight
But rather
Weighed you down
Latching on for an astonishing ride

With my burnt wings
And the last of my embers
Fighting for their right to burn on
And burn larger

Than they might have
Before you
Or if not for you
Or quite possibly
Because of the sight of you
But not for the sake of you

I landed once again
Feeling so naked and robbed
Of something I only ever wanted
And never even had

Neither brave enough to reach for
Nor strong enough to grasp yet

My eyes will now be focused skyward
Where you live
So effortlessly
Freely
With a power you’ve harnessed so mysteriously

I should have gathered
That your admiration for birds of prey
Was not just of their majesty

Understanding then
That it was their solo sojourns
Which entranced you most

And I lay on the ground

And I swallow this

While searching for tinder for my fire

Determined to sear the sky
With flames of my own

The Fall

Wind in our hair and the sun on our faces,

we ran through the sand, the dunes, the wildflowers.

We reached a cliff where I peered down

over the falls,

beaming in anticipation,

before turning to look at you…

Tempted by the abyss,

who taunts with salacious adventure,

I closed my eyes, held my breath

then jumped –

Soaring, flying, falling into the depths,

my feet hit water and I was immersed

in refreshing delight.

The shock of submergence

revitalizing, seducing,

I surfaced,

gasped for air

…Orgasmic…

And found that you were not beside me.

Bathing in my preemptive bliss,

that was supposed to be ours,

I dove into exhilaration and danger

but, you –

you lingered,

content where it was safe.

Eyesight

I soar.
I see.
I saw
eyesore.
Sore eyes.
Sorry eyes.

The Distance

The battle.
But
not the war.
The
victor yet unseen.