Where I come from there are no
There is the ground and the sky
our feet and our hands.
She’s calmer now. The winter Sun is setting.
The edges of her voice have dulled
her eyes are still swift, snowy blue
blossomed into summer skies.
She is august now. Slow,
heavy as the air. Mellow,
the Moon easing in her hammock.
Watch my arms reach they are
taffy ropes pulling always pulling
She reached across and stuck the needle in
didn’t feel around for the vein
if it hurt.
The plunger went down, Continue reading
there were days when the night didn’t end
didn’t break apart with the alarm
just laid on the floor beside yesterday’s clothes.
there were mornings that stayed night
trapped in the sheets, still cold from the night before
flat, dark in front of the sun between the blinds.
there were days when the morning and night dissolved together
pills and water, take one at bedtime every night
stomach cranking time to the hours between 12 and 12.
You were beside me when I woke.
Your eyes reflecting the dark
except that you moved.
I was frozen hot, dripping
with fear, your dry brush legs
tightened like a fist
at my breaths, your body tenses –
Outside the curtains the Moon
is busy, watching
something rattle through the trash.
When you leave, (finally, you leave)
you move like liquid poured
down a dry wall.
All eight legs and eyes
releasing me as you dribble down
into the black,
invisible except that you moved.