all in a golden afternoon

under the skies of cloudless blue,

i search that azure for the moon,

hoping it shows before its due

when day and night meet like a rhyme,

the lunar white and solar bright,

their faces shown at the same time

and bathing me in stellar light

i crave the simultaneous,

the line between the day and eve;

i crave between the noon and dusk,

i crave the visions it brings me....

i remember blue

when i looked up into what

appeared like heaven

white cotton-ball clouds

drifting lazy on the breeze

shaped like tumbleweeds

on the grey days, i

fling my window open wide

and oh, desperate

i open my arms

to the sky, and beg for just

a sliver of blue...

sweetly scented milk-cream cleanses my skin

as i rub it in circles over cheeks, forehead, chin;

i rinse it and find myself anew, fresh from the water.

from there i mix my potions: one to replenish the

moisture cleansed away, one to smooth the redness

around my nose and beneath my eyes, one to

lock in the dewdrops to keep them in,

keep the world out.

the sun is blazing beautifully today, and i cann...

my great-great-great-great grandmother

half-starved crossing the country,

and she took a butcher’s knife to my

great-great-great-great grandfather’s chest

and broke him down like an animal.

she cooked him into stew, along with

the few beans, onions left among their stores.

her daughter held her up as a hero.

without that sacrifice, she never would

have lived, never would have felt the

sun on her...

if you had gone on the internet

and taken advice strangers gave you,

you would be long gone.

because i’m not easy to handle,

and i will break down and have

the cops called on us,

and i will cease making sense

to your mind — desperately

grasping some word i’ve said

or phrase i’ve uttered in a

futile attempt to figure oht

what i’m saying, what i mean

i’m sorry for the times

the illness takes over....

sand on my feet

sun in my hair

body exposed

to the wide-open sky

i wade in

it’s a hot day

and the water is cool

a shock of turquoise

so clear you can see

the ocean floor underfoot

once you were a tsunami—

receding from the shore

just long enough for

me to catch my breath

then crashing back into

the city i built for myself

progress crushed under

water pressure, shops and

roads flooded irrepar...

here it is: the longest and shortest period of my life.

i stand in the wings, ballgown braced against the

torrent of energy awaiting me within, and catch my breath

as the groom walks down the aisle, just out of my sight.

i can’t see him.

all i can see is the way forward.

they cue up my song and my feet move forward

trained by wicked dance teachers to go with the rhythm

but i can’t hear them in ...

i was thirteen when you died

and i saw it on the news

dining at a pizza place

where i wept in the bathroom

wiped my eyes with one-ply

then drowned my sorrows

in cinnamon sticks

i felt a little less numb

destroying my brother at

the pinball machine by the door

but the pall hung over me

as thick as the smell

of garlic in the air

wherever you are

i hope you’re making art

and eating pizza

and i hope...

i was born on the second day of spring

daffodil child with eyes like the sky

breaking through the snow

and reaching for the sun

march, they say, comes in like a lion

and out like a lamb

now in my late youth

i’m caught somewhere in between

a creature made for the hunt

who craves the peace of the pasture

a walking contradiction

a day that feels like summer

even though it’s months away...

we start, grinning,

on opposite sides of the mat

green, yellow, blue, red

polka dots ready

to twist us into a pretzel

twiddling us into one being

the spinner is spun

and my left hand goes on red

the spinner is spun

and your right foot goes on yellow

and so we continue

until your arm brushes mine

and my cheeks turn

as red as the circle

beneath my hand

we curve and writhe

against each other

mus...