Reconcile

I sent you away
on a paper boat I watched
drift and disappear.

folded every touch
into delicate creases
laying them to rest.

I convinced myself
that I would find peace with you
and all the goodbyes.

learning to draw

I stayed
in the porcelain tub,
until the heat
had disappeared.
Emerging,
I felt the contours
of my body slip,
letting me learn
my shape
as the water
traced each line
to the floor,
sliding over
each hill
and valley
making
abstract gestures
on skin's
canvass.

untitled

My legs flashed
under the water
catching shards
of the broken sun.
I heaved
my soaked body
onto the dock,
letting the wood's
warmth sink
into my skin.

Your breaths
barely there.
Just a slight sigh
from your chest.
 

Devotion

Holes in the fog
streams of clarity
and glimpses of life.
Real life.
Where couples, hands interlocked
sway on sidewalks
their faces smudged
by the soft and luxurious words
they speak into each other’s hair.
Sometimes I find myself wondering
when I will be able to see through
the illusions.
When my hair will become the dense
net of secrets that are only shared
between lovers.
I want to know intimacy of the
deepest and most raw kind.
Like sunflowers turning
to the pale yellow
strands of sun.

Things Unsaid

Do you remember
when I stood in the bucket of your backhoe
and said, “No time, I have things to do Daddy?”
Surrounded by charred orange
and the brush strokes of fall,
you laughed and the sun's brightness
was nothing compared to you.

I have never told you this,
but the way you smell is perfect
wood shavings
car grease and sweat
and accomplishment because you can fix anything.

You don't know that when I got you for dinner
I would wait minutes outside the garage
listening to your off key whistling
and the slightly fuzzy radio.
You would add 5/8s should do it,
beckoning the swoosh and click of the tool box,
and right before my fingers reached the door handle
I could close my eyes
let out every bit of air
and feel the strength of your arms encasing me,
the stubble that caught like barbs on my cheeks.
I should have had time for you.

Vroman's Nose

A patchwork of farms
spread over the valley,
interlocking squares of land.
We inched our bodies
to the ledge,
letting our legs hang over.
Our skin warmed in the sun
as we watched the world
move below us.
My muscles stung
from the climb
and welcomed rest.
The rock we laid on
was engraved with names
of those that made the hike,
trails of handwriting
scrawled on the earth.  

The First Time

I waited for dinner,
my legs swinging
under the table.
A pot on the stove
was hissing with steam.
My mother rushed
cabinets to burner
reaching the water
just as it began
spilling over.
Pouring the ravioli
into a strainer
I heard her
begin to weep, softly,
arms bracing the counter.

"Lord, I have nothing else to feed them."

The pasta had burst
the cheese ruined,
small clumps
lying in the drain.

"Momma, stop crying, we don't have to eat tonight."