ancient

reborn from his very head,
a glimpse of myself.
waiting, left, forget me not,
or how i shall forget you.
how i shall leave you,
fly away as i have,
again and over again.
i find you in each new place,
repeat my departure,
or i watch again as you leave.
you cannot hold to my fight.
you will never match the original.
you will always be the shabby copy.
again and over again,
help me to remember.

below me

here beneath the sands
brown and gold and blue
desert angels, mystic in the dust
long forgotten beside me
sinking below me
buried under me
creeping over my lovers grave
winding past it all
snake hiss in the tall grass
i will kill you
next time

how do they know me?

i glow as i am, wholly yellow light.
visions follow me, they uncover me,
neither mirage nor death.
they trail me into the depths,
and when i rise up to breathe
i find their silky arms wound around me.
my legs cannot join me.
they become motionless and tense.
my unburdened hands vibrate passively.
my heart opens, a hinged box full of light.
the twisting reminds me of something,
but what?
let me ask again...

shelter

it was by the river bend, i remember.
hot and stormy, sheltered by the sky.
woven bracelets, baskets full of song.
the water reeds parted in the night
as my lips entered yours,
hidden beneath the water as we were.
release your hold.
break your power.
cry out in the doleful night.
i am aching for smallness again
under the tree boughs lain upon me.
i have not met you since, beneath
white sky, black clouds.

the clue

we found it hidden in the young forest.
palm put to tree, no bigger than my hand.
the clue found in the sweetest cake.
an ambrosia offering, rich and heavy moist.

we rode to tell the news.
across the mountains, standing like a wall.
we crashed in the grass and i found your mouth,
it tasted sweet. i knew then i could not trust you.

up

from room to room i fly,
spirits surround me,
alone as i am,
i am not afraid.
up walls i climb,
hand over foot,
ladder rung to rung.
to rafter, to skylight,
old with cobweb dust,
bone dust.
how far shall i fall?
i am not afraid.
i know the whole story now.

the side door

the bog inside the compound
sucks under my feet.
they tell me i must
go around, use the
side door, across the
bridge.
that is how i get to
him.
he who loves me
without reason.

embedded

there was nothing left behind,
at least that's what he told me.
checked and doubled,
under folded blankets,
coffee table mess.
only what you brought with you,
only what was salvaged.
"you'll never find me." he said,
"i belong here, i have a life here,
away from you."
this unwritten promise.
this unwritten curse.
and how i am, no longer caring.
and how i am, always aware.
broken by fallen fragments,
water rushing, blood rushing,
you walking out the door.
always left alone,
left with broken glass embedded in bone.
how my insides fought to be free,
return me to myself.
but you could not see,
you did not know,
and i forgave you that.
it was the way it poisoned you,
the way it changed you,
the way it blinded you.
but i forgave you everything.
even when i was unwhole, i forgave you.
even when i was dashed into the monsters, i forgave you.
and yet i cannot forgive myself.

let it end

constant fortune, heavy luck.
weary traveler, master of none.
there are many reasons i no longer know you.
memorizing your face does not create you to my presence.
for all that is left of my mind,
the wreckage of my history still lays
stretched across endless pavement.
brown grass filled with hopeless treasures,
they are all faded and dull now.
even the jagged shivers of glass no longer sparkle.
weather dusts it all.
and just when you think each shard is found,
a tiny speck slips out from under the rug
to bite your sole.
always waiting for the next piece to reveal itself,
like a conversation with a tired child.
fragmented and seemingly nonsensical.
half asleep, part awake.
slurred drunken mouth.
let it rest now, let it be over.

the leak

there is a leak in my brain.
in the base, no bigger than a fly.
the soggy membrane inside
drains slow snotty bubbles.
i found out about it by accident.
one morning, alone at home.
it explains a lot you see,
the leak.
like a toilet that won't stop filling.
that constant gurgling noise,
deep in the back of my head,
where spinal cord meets skull.
i hear it while i sleep,
where unconsciousness bares horror images,
a warning.
they find me in deepest night,
blood pumping, heart hurling me awake.
i catch the last fading slip of shadows
that adorn my bedroom.
shifty and skittish.
perhaps they are the ones who wake me.
to keep my vessel from draining dry.
like milk from the churn.

left behind

i have not spoken of the river
though its lilting falls
wreck back the shoreline
how little we recall one another now
you as mountainous snowy winter
hats and choking scarves i once made you
i, understanding always
and left behind the pack
there are dreams i once had
packed solid in ice now
under shifting plates
have you forgotten them yet?
their sallow moldy shapes
seem unrecognizable
fallen under spells
under new dreams
with solid borders crossing hard
all over me

snake slide

in the flood waters he came
crawling out from under
on belly
snake slid out
dark in eyeless face
in the barn's attic
where we rope coiled
it was sickness sleep
raindrop patter
goose feather heavy heat
pulling us apart
broken bones floating in flesh
stretchy and empty
when i tried to pull you apart