The dream felt so real,
when I saw you and grinned
from ear to ear
As you saw me, too...
We were always that way.
Two silly schoolchildren,
running towards each other,
baggage be damned,
Young as we had claimed not to be
in those first foolish lies

And in my slumber, it felt so right,
So easy.
Barreling right up to you,
the one who made my everything
so right.
( Read more... )

It was the middle of the night,
in the center of winter and we were
in Battery Park,
our frozen hands fused in the
pocket of your peacoat...
Facing east with our
hearts of refugees,
Your tired, my poor,
we huddled our collective mass
and held our torch toward the dark.

Here in these stunted,
frigid days,
I often mimick the movements
of your mouth in those ( Read more... )

Was the answer in the question all along?

I get it,
loud and clear--
you don't want to call or
if you do,
your better judgement wins out.

I don't fault you for it, but I'm
blue in the face from
faulting myself,
exonerating you from
all of my tears...
because I know my karma
called for every one.
Still, I've wept for this,
I've not slept since this,
and all I want is to hear your
breath underneath my ( Read more... )

Listening to a shuffle of
songs just now,
I come upon
not "our song," because ours was a
library of sounds, but
one of the many that kept us
up, talking for hours,
dissecting every note, every
nuance.
And when I hear it, still,
I think of what you said...
how family is whoever
holds you up
And I ache to call you
right this moment and remind you
of the ties we ( Read more... )

We were at
sixty-six thousand miles above sea level and you told me,
holding my two mangled, aching hands,
looking down at
four sets of knuckles so off-life white they blended in
to tray tables,
to sterile shades pulled down over fairy-tale skies...
that you wished we could just
reach warp speed and stay this way
forever...
And I held my breath until I ( Read more... )

So I have this poem I wrote,
Maybe a month ago
And it's just sitting there,
Unshared
Because, strange as it sounds,
It has no beginning.
I find it funny how so many people
Find it hard to write endings...
To their poetry, to their stories.
Me? Endings just pour from my pen...
Farewells flow out of me like a purge,
But hellos are hard to come by.
I think maybe ( Read more... )

Sprawled out on my back with you,
This time not in the bedroom but
rather
On grainy asphalt warm and glittering
under the
Fireworks that July,
I took your hand and told you
This year, I finally knew that freedom;
Funny how independence came in the
form of you
Reigning me in and naming me as your
own.

I'd known only the tyranny of love,
The taxation of my every ( Read more... )

Appreciate.
That's the word that bears weight
This week.
Am I appreciative,
Did I appreciate in worth,
and better yet,
Do you appreciate my words?
When all I've done is lay my
Heart out to be
Depreciated
Decimated
Cremated
Until all that remains are
ashes of us...

gottofindsometimetowrite.
ideasburstingoutofmybrain, notimetoputthemtopaper.

soon.
xoxo