Swallow, hollow

 

A killer box

She’s dressed

In leather, wine and cigarette ash

thin and terrific

she plays divine

Sucking her fingertips

like dragging life from your body.

A colossus

dark eyed

fearless

from the outside

a child.

Knot

I miss you the most

In spring

When afternoons grow wider

And airplanes crush the horizon

Like clean white brushes on fuchsia

I miss you the most

when my arm twists and rolls

in soft static shapes

to reach for your spine

to clench in the resting of your chest

Resting of your absent weight

And the morning breaks in wonder

and the dusk falls in atonement

I missed you the most when

I baked a pancake

The most

 

Photo

30nd of March

I put spring in a jar,

I put it all away

In airy afternoons

In March

When the skyline is clearer

And birds dance in the sunset;

While teenage lust awakens in bodies

like pagan flowers in Solstice.

I put us in a jar

I set us loose

My darling,

I let our ashes travel in time

To cage this crib of taste and smell and wind

That’s called spring.