A Journal of Undoing – Four

For so long I have been in the possession of something that aches to be broken wide open and set free from longing. I will take anything – an affair, a distraction, a broken arm, an appendectomy. Heartache; anything that provides release from the embers of loving someone who needs nothing; least of all you….

A god of one’s own

I wanted a god of my own We would be, my god and I, impeccable in our fallibility I wanted a god who rode bicycles and cooked breakfast Burnt her fingers and held them to my lips A god who came home late waking me with her perfume Reaching for me in the fumbling dark…

My.

My constellation My launch pad of a thousand ships – your beauty is alchemy My belly is dough My breath is leaving me My knees betray

You return at impossible times

  The memory of you remains an ever-fixed mark on all I see. The image of your face recalls itself with delicately woven fibers, patterning the windows in my house and the frozen glimpses in hallways, pathways, byways.  I cannot look at my own face in the mirror without seeing your fingerprints stamped upon my neck. Tiny…

One year of without

  There are some nights that the thought of you or even your name do not leave the sleeve of my shirt alone. It pulls like a kitten. Tonight is like that. I no longer question if it is you trying to reach me, to communicate. I am flooded with desire to see you. To…

16 notes to love

How do you write a love note over the phone? Do you text? Do you punch in a seemingly infinite line of emoticon flowers and heart shapes. God no. Or would you send an audio note? Croak your husky, raspy hormonally-charged dedications into a metal mouthpiece? Would you maybe just call the object of your…

Why I will write you four letters in one night

Because I cannot keep away from you. Because my nights are yours in thought and memory of the morning before, of the unexpected detonation of desire beneath the sheets at 6:49 am. Because my days are filled with disinterest and wild distractions both. Because your lips keep the memory of my tongue pressed upon them like…

I find you in the unlikeliest places

I find you in the unlikeliest spaces. In my pockets, where the spare change you handed me, still jingles cheerfully. Or, at dawn when the morning peeks out from the clouds and reminds me of the sunrise in your eyes. And you are there in the folds of my laughter Resting in the belly of my lids….