What to do with a beautiful thing

Nobody speaks of the woman so beautiful the sight of her brings tears to men’s eyes. Nobody speaks of her anymore; the woman with hair like the monsoon; her lips like ripe figs left too long on the vine. Nobody says a thing tonight of her walking the streets in red, a blur of a…

Let what you lose have no power over you

It takes a tragedy to remind you of what truly matters. And tragedy, like any other word, can be defined loosely by all, and specifically only by you. My epic tragedy may just be your comedy of errors. Your little catastrophe may be my little denouement. So you lost her. So you’re in pieces. So…

Do not ask me to write love letters

“I want to bury my face in your neck, in your hair.” It began like this. But then the romance dropped out of my hands and fell onto the floor in that loud clattering way love never is.  I wish you had never written to me. The same way I wish I hadn’t been so brave…

You don’t write to me, so you write through me  

You sound like I wake up in the middle of the night, a somnambulist, who deadwalks to my computer to write. You sound like me bleeding quietly in the dark. You are like me saying everything I am trying so hard to drown inside of me in the day time. Things so profoundly sad and…

If your heart is breaking you might as well learn

If there is one thing I have learned about the sense of utter desolation at the end of love, this is it: it is never about that one person. It is rarely even about anyone else. If you feel empty it is not because someone has left you. It is because you have left you.

The poem hunter 

By the end of some days I hunt words for you. Small gifts at the parting of the day. Not unlike the occasional dead bird made as a peace offering from the pet cat. So I look for poems. I look for verses or passages. I look for pages in between the binds of books….