Tag: creative

moon slip–poem

how silly my moon slip
into down     my lips
pocus wrap in yours
and I’m sorry about
celestial ache and howl
and how are you
getting down from here?
will you climb cloud
humid spilling? crawl?
beg the ailing air
to backbend into ladder
place your foot in the
spinal gnocchi rung
stumble out of this skin

——————————————–

life is crazy. my apologies for the sabbatical. 

cement

I am warm with peach dinge sky
always spotted with light slice boxes
and cement understands my grey
echoes the hollow of my breast

Skin

when I think of peach milk skies at twilight
how snow caked rooftop peaks melt into
matte grey cloud blankets
when I think of how delicate how precious
dove ribs must be
how feathers thread together feel
I know what loss of flight feels
I know sewn skin
ripped skin
how blood bubbles quiet beads
precision
skin
feels

I’m Not Afraid of Heights–poem

 

I don’t trust
myself on those
on-ramps,
all stilted
and looming.
I’m always eyes
on the edge,
counting pores
in concrete.
How cold
is that water
is that air
kissing this
skin with burn
and brackish.
Dizzying, always
thinking about
driving off.
Would those
pores hold?
or snap
from their
hollowed gut.

 

ur qt—a poem

Your fingers licked the grooved
metal strings
and the clicking of
your tongue on the ridges
of the roof of your mouth
strummed the sinews of my skin
in lulling rhythms, built
craters of sighs in my
collarbone. All love
dripping from the length
of your hair and me
hugging my knees
on the edge of your bed.
Babe I live in the linger
of your breathing
on my neck
and you keep dropping
your pick but I don’t
miss a step of song
when you bend
to pick I up. I’m tangled
in the sienna brown
of your sheets and I know
that coffee burnt your
tongue but it didn’t
hold us back.

Steeped

My body’s steeped
in oleander blood
bathing the bodies
in hemlock tea
their petal skin
bowing under teeth
and I am heady
in my silent skin
bent under tongue
sheets licked
with love
liquor
and I am sick
with the
residue
of his sweat
on my lips