Sunset Over Texas

There was no snow in April,

nor thunder in Febuary, 

but now the sky grows grey

and dark.

I tried to tell you that evening

when the day had waned to

thin orange stripes, contrasting

bright pink clouds, a sun half-sunken

below a somber horizon.

You would listen by and by,

a solemn nod, faint smile,

but your eyes were lightyears

away from whatever 

I was saying.

I wonder now if you will miss me,

when you find I’ve gone.

If only heaven and earth were not

so great a distance,

and there was only the

white porch swing

on a patio of this

too small house.

Down the Rabbit Hole

I can’t support what you love,
and you can’t support your
claims to love me.

It’s like falling
forever, falling asleep
while falling, and waking up
still set toward nadir,
place of darkness
I so often inhabit.

It’s such a long journey,
I thought you might
try to catch me, break my
descent–you didn’t.
You pushed me away.

I needed you to pull me
from the pit,
and, for a fleeting moment,
seemed you might, but then
your lover called you, you
forgot your vows, and
I  watched your face,
that I had seen
so many times above
my own,
shrink into nothingness,
and fade out of view.

How I longed for you to
love me,
and I loved you so much
more than
I could even love myself,
and you took my affections
and twisted it,
some monster.

I felt the dull knife break
between the columns
of my bleak spine,
painful separation,
yet somehow
somewhat expected.

And though my ego took a dive,
you should know, the betrayal never
hurt as bad as realizing that
the fantasies were better
than our reality ever was.

I wonder back to that
character who looked at
his family and wondered
at what point he would have
to forsake his family,
and look to himself for survival.

At what point
do I save myself?
At what point
do I grow?

Names for Names Sake

It was the way you said my name
like a whisper, a confession,
a need to reveal who I was,
chipping away at my identity through promise.

What power a name has, truly.
The ability to gain familiarity,
to speak in tongues more ancient,
ever-changing your meaning with tone.

I would go to bed, thinking your name,
and sometimes my mouth would move along, or my voice might catch the empty words, only darkness knew.

Sometimes I still say it to
feel the blood rush to my face,
the smile linger on my lips,
and the flow of electricity buzzing in my palms and in-between my fingers.

Flowery Bitters

Thorned bushes have your heart then?
When wiry brush scrapes your thigh,
and climbs until you cannot reach,
will you then think again on your position sailing from the sky?

There are a hundred blushing roses,
that’s true enough, but do you truly
adore the sour odor that comes
at every petal, seeping into coffins,
stagnant in your unwitting garden?

Are freesias too simplistic for you?
Such a careless breeze they sway,
underwhelming presence, or perhaps
you are afraid to leave the roses,
because you know their secrets…

I am simply a road-side daisy, watching life race by, entertaining thoughts of grandeur. Will I kiss the sky? Reliant
on the mercy of nature,or the kindness of man, but I am nurtured.

I thrive
despite all odds.

Tell me roses,
are you loved?

I Miss You

I do little things
like saute garlic and
deviate from recipe.
I try to be clever with
tomatoes and pepper,
and experiment around
pretending to be you.

I’m not adventurous,
but you are,
and I miss the way
you’d smile over
your shoulder at me
and your eyes
would become folded
into your cheeks.

I think ten days
apart from you is torture,
and pray that this experience
will only grow us stronger.