The Poetry Snapshot: Here and Gone like a Breeze

Sleeping Bear Dunes, Michigan

One single moment,
so sweet as sugar,
only to leave behind a cavity that lasts forever.
How can someone touch you so lightly,
that you question the embrace,
but then find a scar on your body?

Here and gone like the wind,
but softer and silently,
like a breeze.

I feared her free-spirit,
but found asylum in her affection.
She filled me with rage and so much wonder,
but when she was gone, I had this everlasting hunger.

Only three raindrops hit my skin before she got bored.
Wanting more, but locked at her core,
she did not mind leaving; that’s all she was good for.
For summoning up a storm and then ‘running away’.

Never afraid but always awake,
because dreams never lie and they testify
against everything we try to hide.

Green grass in the field mocks my jealously,
but I thought it was love?
I called it affection,
but just wanted attention.

When she first came here,
the field was frozen.
Then it melted tears as she disappeared.
How was she chosen?
Freshly plucked out of the field,
the star Rose in my eye.
But of course I had to say goodbye,
eventually flowers decay.
Perhaps tomorrow the sky won’t be so gray.

the rose vine – “Eternity, for Men”

“Eternity, For Men”

I can’t explain who I am without the stuff

I own. The space I inhibit in this room,

the full length mirror and the floor camouflaged

in boy-jeans and flowing dresses

silent yet screaming at me, “boy or girl?

Boy or girl? 

BOY OR GIRL?

 

I glance at my closet, for a moment finding silence 

in the cologne I spent entirely too much 

on because I thought it would make me happy

and it did, for a time. Every inhale brought euphoria

that never seemed enough. I need more

to prove who I am to me, to you.

 

I inhale, the one symbol of masculinity uninhibited 

by my mother’s curves

or the chest still unmapped.

It smelled of leather and fire,

the ex-boyfriend’s garage 

before I knew wanting 

to be someone and with someone weren’t the same thing.

 

Of course I knew. 

The way I crossed my arms 

and bound my chest before it developed

before I learned 

no one wants an it.

 

Before that boyfriend called me Eric and laughed.

Before I knew laughter as the consequence of sincerity.

Before I accepted laughter and abandoned sincerity.

 

 

i-meanmydayshavebeenokayandyou

i’m just an awkward human being. and being an awkward human being on zoom is so difficult. and today i did a lot of awkward things on zoom so i’m going to go crawl in a ball and just take a nap… but first here’s some word food…

~~~~~~

[…feel the butterflies sometimes.

like u try to h o l d i t in.

your fuzzy edge.s

hoping the tongue won’t spill your j e ll- o.

after getting tongue tied for a while.

been misplacing names and time in your head.

been making a scarf out of the pit.

out of the lightning casted down.

i tell y ou we a refreckl es on whispers…]

The Poetry Snapshot: Through the Window

Every day I fly to the tree with the twisting branches
and gaze at her through the window.

The lady with the tired eyes and colorful silk saris
stained by sweat and spilt food
as she cooks all day.

Chettinad, Tamilnadu

I notice the tiny kitchen,
brimmed with pots and pans
and no room to breathe,
tighten around her through the window.

The lattice panels bend into parallel prison bars
that she stays confined to.

Without knowing her voice,
I’ve learned her story through the window.
Without knowing her name,
I sing for her through the window.

And sometimes, she glances up.
She looks at me,
through the window.
Maybe looking for a distraction,
maybe looking for a companion.

But those moments pass by quickly
and she continues to cook all day.

Untitled

In a wash of white noise 

I hear crickets 

Strumming a long tone 

To accompany the click of your finger’s keys 

You sat beside me 

With orange light streaming 

As flight attendants moved back and forth

I reached out to touch your hand 

Encapsulating mine 

In your warmth cold 

How many days can we have like this 

Listening to silence 

How many days can we have like this