fall into me

I am Jill's bitten nails,
hammered into gaping holes,
sagging down with a heavy load,
bending under the weight of art for art's sake.

I am Jack's empty wallet,
diamond dogs and lost credit cards,
sunk below light's reach with pirate boots.

but I am not,
and I am your blue-eyed wanderer,
blue-lined warrior, the burn of whiskey in the back of your throat,
the brazier in your belly.
I am an impermeable flannel shirt.
I am a princess poster and your first memory.

worn

cleaning out the closet,
metaphorically and not
wanting to get rid of it,
wanting and not.

internal war:
the cleaning-crazy-remodeling-lady vs.
the collecting-protecting-intuition.

i should be writing a letter.

shells

dirty little redhead boy
(devil spawn, satan's child)
playing in the sand
(mutters curses at me for a while)

we're fine here,
underneath the ping-pong tables
and the blond waiters.

I'm dirty, too, but he's smiling.
Until we get home, and the older one
(he's supposed to be better)
starts shouting, losing his temper,
and I bike home, still dirty,
with the crushed beauty of the shells in my pocket.

everything that changes in a year

the sunshine filled my heart to bursting,
i skipped and sang and tried my hand at transposing,
couldn't edit out my mental voice but walked fast,
not paranoid but cautious,
and i'm glad it was mine before i was yours.

but i miss being in love.

something from graduation era (lost and found)

the thunder exploded my eyes to open
and the glass on the floor, broken
needled its way into my heels, dragging
feels like the right thing to do, sagging
under a heavy load of what-won't-work.
even if i only wanted a skirt.

witchcraft queen

bewitch me, whisper
sweet nothings in my ear,
wide innocent eyes.

tempt me, offer more
with your hands than i can
with my years, i've packed a cougar
and a change of clothes,
nothing more or less.
a little desire
for some fire and some rest.

(Miss Boleyn, i've got so little to lose
i'm not bothering to choose,
but i think i don't regret it.)

insomnia

it creeps back in when you least expect it,
edging around the screen door,
flitting up the stairs, and i'm
just too damn tired to fight it,
my mind still pounding like a battering ram.
"Kill the beast!" legs twitch,
arms shift, and the downpour won't flood the streets
tomorrow, i won't take the heat,
but God willing, i just might get some sleep.