Already, you imagine the nights you will spend on your own ( Read more... )

coffee grounds slip, sit silted at the bottom of the cup.
they swim into the tilt, tideless: don't insist
that every shift is worth reading, don't ask
what this slipping might mean.

i have spent the night dreaming of halved oranges,
pulped and left to ripen, of hands gloved and ready
for the examination.

I think it started something like this ( Read more... )

Inside my chest I have buried ( Read more... )

Don't wake the neighbors ( Read more... )

After so many nights spent curled fetal, quiet on couches,
I am finally feeling a little more born and a little less hatched.

But, not really.

I don't know. There's feeling better and then there's feeling a little less of the same.
This is new. The way everyone looked tired today.
Everyone spilling milk, no one bothering to clean up.

I have lost months to your smallest gesture.
there is no reasonable way to explain this.

...and, anyway, I don't really want to.

If there is a verb ( Read more... )

Let me find my pockets lined ( Read more... )

I stay awake to watch the way streetlights
hold you. To see the way your body
curls itself quiet. To see the way an hour closes
its fingers around you. I stay awake to see you
tuck into a dream you won't remember.

But mostly I stay awake just to see if I can know how quiet
a room can become.