burn me a flower

singe the outline
on my skin and mind
like a feathers blaze
indelibly stamped
upon my soul

tell me the smell
of colours is lasting
as my memory of you
turned away as a season
only to become something else

your borders raised and angry
like life itself
remind me i once lived
in the shadows
of colour and light
obscured only by that curl of white smoke

acrid. pungent. sulfur.
this smoldering work
defines the broken peace
of my one true thing
burned, now forever with me

Clockwise

each day
the countdown to you
ignored, the potential
of every blind corner
as i take your hand
and lead you there

some say
the moon revolves clockwise
reversing your pull
yet my heart leans forward
as you take my hand
and lead me there

one way
defines the descending path
we chose without concern
of outcome or destination
as we take our hands
and show eachother the way

city and shore

tonight i see the surf
even as the city overlooks my shoulder
a skyline not of low-rise sand driven dwellings
but, of concrete and steel towers along the saltless current

a city built of glass and stature
far from the shifting tides of jetty and sand alike
still reminds me of my place by the water
where the peace of the heartless dwells

hot and cold underfoot
i embrace them both as sisters
one relinquished to the formal study of others
as the other defines itself by nature alone

home is where my feet tread upon the earth
concrete, macadam, or crushed pumice
i rejoice in the welcome each extends to me
as a native of both city and shore

together

once we wore the weight of the living
now relinquished we are free
together we watch as the sun sinks behind the city
reminding us we are one in a place of many

so often the din of the silent drew us closer
despite the silence we invited the words formed on our lips
spilling into and filling the spaces
we once left behind for others

the ambiance of us overtook this space
where once our sullen figures dwelled
leading no one to nowhere
our presence the shadow of the overlooked

today we sit among the ruin of us
rejoicing in the solitude of survival
a peace we brought to the carnage that was us
to learn to step again one foot in front of the other

the ink which stains this image, a black and lasting symbol
of the struggle we endured through tear and rain alike
as we each reached for the brass ring
clearly meant for anothers grasp

Spark

generally we sit and hear
that which we want to
rarely stepping out of bounds
as etiquette dictates
but, tonight is different

alive and aloud we share
the spark of this moment
the jukebox setting our tone
guiding us even
as if by hand to that place

you alive, me in step following
your moves as a novice
a stumbling attempt at living
refusing to fail
despite the trepidation we feel

tomorrow we will rise
like the sun of a new day
together, refreshed as lovers
charged with our own future
without the regrets of the past

we see for the first time
the promise of hope
like the bass and steel drums
running through our souls
which drove us to this place, enduring

long ago expired

empty as the seats around me
the blank stares of no one
remind me i am home

tonight we will meet
and say nothing
as the evening absorbs our words

the touch of your hands
upon me, hollow and cold
as the indifference in my soul

strangers for the reasoning
of self-preservation
two hopeless indigents of love

no sense in reaching out
to offer aid to the other
as failure defines us both

culpable in our shared loathing
we relish the company of no one
other than the shadows of our past

we breathe as one from necessity
not for the living of life
but as the mechanical process to continue

long ago expired we tread
upon the same grade and terrain
as only rote memory dictates

tonight, empty, cold, and tired
we continue our hollow stare
expecting only the inevitable

amber

the crimson-wheat amber
of your body
draws me near
like no other

effervescent and refined
as characteristic
of your Belgian derivative
you glow before me, welcoming

despite my circumstance
you soothe me to where i find
a centered existence among the chaos
surrounding this troubled soul

live, as yeast and misery
shielded by this buffer
you created for me
to face the evening renewed

Mickey Mouse & Athena

your golden-bordered frame
on the dusk gray body
making the shapes of the surreal
and imagined figures in my mind

changing with each advance
of the clock, as the canvas
wind-driven, reminds me of
of the shadows i've come to know

the stratus and cumulus
structure of your shifting work
reminiscent of the world
i call my own

shifting and ever-changing
i grasp your beauty
as the fleeting statement
which makes me whole again

new glasses

from across this granite horizon
you stare in the general direction
of misconception and belief
that you stand alone
among the others
which surround you

your eyes shine, illuminating me
as the sun sinks into the night
shielded by these frames
which expand across your face
hiding nothing but your insecurity
defiant against me

a smile and coy response
does not conceal your fervor
for the unknown and possibly
unwelcome advance of a stranger
reaching out to you
in a manner unconcerned by you

Trigger*

seeing you define your space
the patrons and the din
of the happy and misguided
together for the purpose
mutual and practical combined
for the average evening
of both joy and pain

the mundane dialect
observed and ignored
for the benefit of both
routine. contrived. required.
your work the common denominator
between the imagined and the real
a means to an end

the small talk and familiarity
melding into the course of the day
the necessary evil
driving the driven and the dead
to the usual pockets of the table
predefined upon arrival
based on routine and function

the hello and usual greetings
tailored to the demeanor
of the eyes which sit before you
both known or otherwise
as if time absorbed you both
with a smile or a whisper
you continue the dance

the sun, set or shining
does not deter the words
initiated by you
from the beginning
as the friend or the shoulder
required by the moment
which makes us whole

the world revolving on your word
the mood responding to your own
behind the granite of your stand
defining an evening
despite who sits before you
or the words which are exchanged
the stage your own, responding only to you.

* for Katie and Natalie

Amanda

i’m sorry, I just met you
the vodka you spilled
on my writings
made me notice you
your apology accepted
we continue

the blond pony-tail
reminiscent of my youth
matches my desire
as I soak you in
when you speak you look,
not gaze, into me

i watch you as you work
foam and cork. ice and taps.
a seamless fluid effort
of no consequence to you
you shine

your strands of sandy silver
sweep across your face
with a push of your wrist
your green eyes shine
illuminating you
glowing before me

the tap is drawn
with silver-white nails
and a bracelet of white leather
your chocker of black braided weave
and your hair clasp of cheap functional
pink plastic ignites me

enticed and intrigued
I engage you through the direct and the mundane
words, as if this moment our last
although today being the first time
i have layed eyes on you
my Amanda

Show Me

my watch has lengthened
as I sit taking you in
a simple service
in both elegance and grace
i see you. all of you.

your highlighted hair
of blond on auburn brown
and eye shadow of shimmering sands
Maybelline, I believe
brings the desired effect

the reluctant smile
which accompanies you
although present, is lost
on those not seeing
you as the presence you are

i see. i know.
if only by your eyes
an object of my sight and mind
i embrace you as if my own
although we never speak

Girls Night Out

i don’t know what drew you
you're just strangers to me
with sweet incantations
like camaraderie

an evening together
you speak as in tongues
this prying bystander
apparent to none

you laugh altogether
embracing the day
as your real apparitions
provide you the way

i listen intently
uninvited, of course
as I can’t help to wonder
what resides in your thoughts

a table of strangers
gathered as one
for the unknown intruder
who understands tongues