The Fondness of Absence

the lack of your hurt
is another strange ache

that transmutes past pain
into a fantastical pleasure

my heart rends itself in two;
one trying to convince the other

that loving in absence
is loving a mirage

Unwelcomed

you curl nails into me,
carving a red, quivering gape;
for your own peace of mind
you stole mine

[Fiction] Dear Josephine

Dear Josephine,

Today we walked in the woods together, the ax hefted on my shoulder and the gun on yours. It was bright early and the snowfall was fresh, crunching under our boots. Our breaths came out thick and white, mingled together and disappeared up into the sky.

Marie

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Unrequited

our breaths
wreathing together
in the winter air
reminds me of
our separation

A Gray Sea

stars above
a still, gray sea
who combs her faded hair
and old lovers
from her thoughts

Arbor

fly away from here dear one
to the sky that I can only glimpse
while my legs become roots
and my frown petrifies

next spring, build your nest
in my branches

The Mistress

give me your sweet promise
your honey-tongued lies

for your barren eyes pierce
my soul and this meeting of bodies
needs a veiling

for my conscience
to look away

Love Language

My ears no longer hear
but I watch your lips shape the words
and your tongue curl deftly

My eyes no longer see
but I feel your fingers shape mine
to share our secret speak

My hands are numb with cold
but your heart beats fiercely
against my bent back

You are heat itself

Your breath exhales the words
against the delicate lobe of my ear

Although they no longer hear
I know them again and again

Dear Goldish

I won you at a street fair
five years ago
a lifetime ago
before illnesses, deaths, and weddings

everyday, I stopped by your tank
fed you your flakes
every week, I changed your water
and you would be happy to see me

today, you passed away

I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more
than a 5 gallon home
which always felt a little too cramped

you were important;
when I felt all alone
I sat by you and spoke:
“We’re both just trying our best to live.”

thank you for being in my life
if you start a new one
I’m sure it’ll be as wonderful as you were

Sun-scorched

your voice tries again
for a gossamer spell
a lustrous ghost
that can no longer
be conjured

for when it ceased
(the first time)
I rolled up the sun
and made my own light

here is my back:
and the scorch marks
to prove it