all true

i sat on a swing today
and heard
fairies laughing
men shouting on the rooftops
takin' my time

i thought about what next to say
the truth
white lies
or maybe just a lullaby

but i went for it last night
so

i wish you would show up on my doorstep
and hold me (tight)
since

isn't that what we both want?
and then, after we could recognize that (in each other)
then, maybe, we would talk.

too many one word sentences

don't go that way, after all these years!
it's just what I feared
why I was so reluctant to...
and then I was so glad I did, but it's just...
just...
I like you.
so don't do it.

bare

exhibit A
is when we play
and dance
through the day
romance
away
act however we damn well please

exhibit B?
well, we'll see.
it all depends on how you smile at me

exhibit C
is "the last time I was in a pool, I was naked"
it's not faking it
it's down-to-earth grit
(see what I did there?)
it's bare.

two-day rainfall

i want:
chocolate fingers
gospel singers
bell ringers
welcoming
forgiveness
that necklace
and passion

and i want you to tell me
everything

Pico Beach

i slept with the waves crashing
dreamt of babies, soft sunshine, napping
awoke to the giggling of a too-energetic three-year-old
at six thirty, eh em.
(we read sleeping beauty then.)

and we walked down the beach
and i walked into the tide
it dragged me in and lifted me high
and i felt peaceful inside
but also sublime.

and we swam out to where the waves lick your chin
and the crests and the valleys entice you in
further and further til you're lost and begin
to wipe your eyes and swim
closer to shore.

and we made sailor's braid bracelets
(well, i made an anklet)
and listened to worldly music
and did yoga poses.

too soon, too soon
did reality intrude.

I'd like to mean it this time

Jesus, boy, you can't lift me up,
then tear me down.
Cuz you're not around
and we're both too proud
to make it up to each other.

well, fuck that.
I'm done trying, because I'm done crying
(or, rather, done wanting to weep, or sleep, or eat,
or wait for you some more.)

and I don't know who that hussy is,
but I don't feel bad feeling bad about her
(I'll think of a reason later.)

maybe I was too loud, too rash
too fast for you.
I keep meaning to ask,
but the moments fly past
and I want just a bit longer before uncovering the truth...

green trees crazy woman campground

{written june 23}

The trains out here are a mile long
and I'm running out of ways to put "I miss you" into song
so I'll try a poem instead.

I thought that maybe,
you missed me too.
But finally getting last night
proved to me that wasn't true.
Give me something, anything?
To say I still mean as much to you,
as I think you still mean to me.
But it's getting harder every day
to maintain the illusion that my love isn't
so so so far
away.