Take me out of the bag

Hold me in your hand

Touch me softly

See how easily I am moved

Imagine how tender

I can be

Sugary sweet

Innocent and light

Take me in

Feel how smooth

I can be against your lips

How subtle my taste

How simple my texture

Swallow me whole

Satisfy your craving

Let me be inside of you

I’m your marshmallow.

I write because I have to

I write because the pages will listen when no one else will

On the page I have no shame or fear of embarrassment

I write at will.

I write because I have to

I write because when I am uneasy there are too many things

To keep in my aching head

I write to heal.

I write because I have to

I write because my fingers are faster than my tears

To make the pain exist outside of me, I ink it out

I write for fear.

I write because I have to

I write to calm my body and calm my nerves

To avoid the desire to pick up the phone and say the wrong thing

I write so no one will hear.

Which part of better

Do you feel

When the weeks have gone by

And you sit in a room full of people

alone

The kind of alone

You only feel

As the result of another person

Leaving your habitual existence?

When the time has gone by

In hours, in weeks,

In long days at work

And dinners with friends

In people saying to you,

“Things will get better”-

Which part of it do you feel?

When the tears run dry

And the excuses run out

When all you can do is stare

Mouth agape

And try to reason

What this lack of emotion is

That you are feeling…

There is less hurt in time,

That much may be true

But emptiness

Blank stares

Cold hands

And beds

And hearts

They stay awake so long

And ask

What part of better do you feel?

Smile drops

thin lims move slowly

down the hall

fading out in the distant

she leaves behind a canvas–

still wet with blue and green–

and an unwashed brush

Her barstool

is already cold.

I remember her face

though it’s been a while

I could never finish the painting

and fearing her dissappointment

keeps me at a distance

Still, I think of her

in the late night hours

and I search for the words

to give her peace-

though most often,

I only fall to sleep.

Wine

I meditate on my glass

Half full

Of deep red merlot

Gently making circles

With my index finger

Around the rim

Unaware I’m moving

At all

He hates that about me

Constant moving

But I fall so deep

In my thoughts…

Across from me sits the man I love

Today

Shall I finish my glass?

The 3^rd love of my life

And I want to laugh-

My drink of choice

Is always the same

Only the man opposite

Of my merlot

Ever seems to change

I can’t put this one down

He’s a good year

Hints of warm cinnamon

And cherries

Earthy with a long,

Smooth finish

The after taste is very important

You see, I’ve learned

From many a bitter wines

Thick red wine

So thick

I can’t see beyond my glass.

Just turn

to one side

close your eyes

pretend his arm

is around you

try to push aside

how alone you feel

for the sake of another night

of sleep

Don’t complain

you won’t gain

any sympathy

lack of sympathy

is what brought you here

to begin-

your side of the bed

 who knew a bed could be so broad?

And once you’ve managed

to be very still

so still that he may

fall to sleep

you can start your dreams

you can dream of the view

from Half Moon Bay

where he charmed you

over a bowl of clam chowder soup

or of the time he fed you

yogurt and berries in bed

you can dream of the way

he used to look at you

or of the way

he used to look

In the morning

he will forget he was mad

he’ll lay his head on your stomach

and fall back asleep

you can pretend it will last

all day

You can pretend

you can pretend all day.

End October

Raindrops fall

Grey cast

The California sky

Sleepiness instilled

In a quiet girl

In her quiet room

So quiet

She can almost hear

Her heart-

Thank goodness for the rain

It covers the sound

Of a fast beat

In a still room

High ceilings

White walls

Decorated up nice

With all the pretty things

That young women keep

She sighs

One more day

Soon one more week

Then the holidays will come

And mask the cold

The sun will shine

She is sure that he would miss her

If he had the time.

Where we meet

Is not the middle

Our colors crashing

Love and time

Illuminate the moment

Between the anger

and the apathy

Find us there

Sublime.

Green eyes fixed

on empty plate

the fatty pieces pushed

to the side

Appetizer finished…

Entree please?

I await

something more filling

than 19.95

can afford me

at this French restaurant

Hell, I can’t even smoke-

the cigarette would be insulted

But then,

I can’t have

what isn’t on the menu

and I can’t leave the table

without my mousse au chocolat

One spoon or two?

I remember

laughter

in a dark, smoky bar

Sure and steady comedy

from the deep voice

behind the mic

Eye Remember

the silk blouse eye wore-

cream lace on black

vintage

like the port

we use to drink

casually

and yet, with conviction

Eye remember

feeling like I floated

in and out

of a hazy place

where dark tannins

and a long, velvety finish

defined my moods

Eye remember you.