the moon has died in a poem
overused and forlorn
its avatar is rising
in blazig pixels and scorn

we are at this threshold
one foot in the moon
the subtelty of dying will be
presented on Zoom

Godot isn't coming but
I am waiting too

I don't miss putting my ear against the door
Listening to yelling and breaking of glass
The pain in my chest as sharp as the peices fallen on the floor

I don't miss the tension that overwhelmed me
As soon as I saw him
And soon as I felt the presence of his body
In the room

But I miss my old couch-bed
Dog *** stained and all
I miss the few good memories I have
I miss my tree
I miss my dogs, though they're long gone
I miss the nightly routine
My mother getting me water before I slept
She might not have always been able to protect me
But every night she got me a glass
In the summertime, she'd even put ice in it
And I would feel like the luckiest little girl

I don't miss forcing food down my throat
Or getting high fevers as a way for my mind to cope
But I miss waking up in the middle of the night one night because of nightmares
And my dad seeing
And being okay that time

I slept in his bed that night
He didn't drink
He didn't smoke
He didn't break down or yell
He just hugged me for once
As tears poured down my cheeks
Suspicious of it but more grateful than I had words for

I miss that
I miss home
Please understand it
I know it was bad
Miserable
But it was the first thing I called me own
And it's where I became who I am in

If you are afraid to die
Then you are not ready

A person is like a light bulb
The light comes from within

Death extinguishes light
from the outside in

But the live wires of life
will still remain

Waiting on someone to turn the switch on again

Death pats itself on the back but then

Life puts the dagger into
it's empty hand

Young magpies,
still grey of feather,  
attack random sticks
thinking them food,
cry out despondently
when discovering
their prey is inedible wood.
Mother magpie overseas
Scavenging expedition with
beady eyed patience...

"Paws in the Light"

A sunbeam waits.
Two cats settle—
quiet, apart, together.

No words. Just warmth.

In stillness, memory stirs.
You’re allowed to stop.
This moment matters.

do not kiss his waning cheek
,like starlight tempts        a
reckless fishhook          ,no.

kiss Me,     & lie entangled
in      diffusing light of
galaxy. it warms your neck,

(& My hand), drawing vincent's
starry night   til you are asleep
in the cradle of love's creation.

weaved and wrapped
intertwining vines

one has poetry on their tongue
while another listens out for song

glistening lips
lubricating words