In Memorium
My body is finally letting go
of the home
     I have made in this maddening silence.
           But it is I,
if there is anyone
     to be blamed,
for carving poems into my skin
and breathing a spirit into them
    in the image of you.

And Yet They Bloom
I climbed your ribs to the very last rung
but in spite of the effort, bruised knees and broken skin
I'll finish this race
where I started from
because someone's future taunts me
sitting in a past I could never outrun.

Everything Illuminated
My satin sheets
were always bathed in starlight,
at least that's what you kept repeating
But I just wanted you to know
that these walls
shine just as bright
in broad daylight
If you would have only waited
a couple more hours
to see darkness welcome in the morning
and I would have greeted you
with a smile so exuberant
that it would have put
the sun to shame.

The Last Lakes of the Green Sahara
Perhaps one day
you will want me
the way that I want you,
like a desert rose pining for the rain
like a bruise wanting respite from the pain
like a scientist searching for a cure
like a sinner's heart wants to be pure.

And I would claim you
like the last lakes of the green Sahara.

Dust Bowl Memories
Sepia tints an old photograph
that I'd forgotten I took
in it we were holding hands,
smiling like fools
as our Blind Fingers danced a pirouette
gracefully, nonchalant
I remember your eyes as they idly traced
the outlines of my face
and how your tongue was like the ocean
and my lips the shores it died upon.

Kitchen Poetry # 69. 
The beginning was benign
as most beginnings usually are
but how was I to know it would turn out the way it did
dangerous and unpredictable
hurtful and sad.

Incendiary
Your smile sets me ablaze
and I swoon to the sighs of a confetti of tears
You offered me the world
and a stage of my own
And without permission you plunged deep into my subconscious mind.

Wanting more leaves you chasing whispers
Like a vanishing a shadow that fades into the light
A wreckage heavy with guilt
Sinking fast, into the depths of the unknown.

So there I stand with my heart in my hands
Pledging that to the last hour of my life
You cannot be anything but to remain
every part of me, every part of my being
Every good
Every evil.

Left alone in the wandering night
I shall end my book in the comforting shadows
In the uncertainty of the future
In the haunting of the past
And that is where I shall find myself living.