Passing

I will not look to the desert of my landscape to find you, dear, who is not there.I will not look for your hands or the half-moons rising in the valleys of your fingernails,I will not search for the musty smell of your scalp,the dash of lashes around you eyes,the curve of your ear,deep wrinkle of your brow. I will …

Pacing the Cage

Beloved,we are barbed and blunted,or so it feels as our fever cools. Another autumn,another winter of waiting for June,we pace corner to corner like worried dogs. What will we do,so naked, so bloated,so ready to run? And whose hand will turn the key?Who will release usinto tomorrow’s storm? As we leave this coop,will we crawl, or walk, or limp?together or …