A loose wool-knit sweater had holes in the pattern,
through which her skin was visible both above and below
the dark sports-bra wore stretched across her *******.
I could see the thin straps draped over her collarbones,
and thought about the lines they leave in her skin.

Yoga pants squeezed her legs underneath of thigh-high socks,
and both were layered below tall leather boots with low heels.
An olive green fatigue jacket hung open around her and
was adorned with a colorful scarf that lay claim to her neck,
its tassels curled and bounced with each step she took
mirroring precisely the loose curls in her fair hair.

Finger-less gloves left her free to feel the texture of the
pages she turned one by one in a book pulled from the shelf.
She had sat down right in the aisle, planting herself in front of
the poetry section inside of a crowded Barnes and Nobles.
Sitting there with such an elegance, I lack the words for it,
completely unnoticed and free from the numerous
holiday shoppers that were carefully stepping over her,
books in their own arms, and heading for the cash registers.

trivialities incarnate

Step up to the plate,
let the ***** fly past
and just keep swinging
until the dust turns to ash.

Burn it all, burn the light,
sacrifice your sight,
and replace it with
warm summer nights.

The last four years I've spent
pulling away from my family
Digging my heels deeper daily
struggling and grasping at traction

Different women came and went
while I was finding purchase
Mother's tears slick enough to
make me slip, I swam the deluge.

A great divide
Between our eyes

Leave the lights off,

and chase the moon

for the sun will come

way too ******* soon,

just lie down with me,

let us pass the time

just as will time

pass us by.

Now we're older
yet still unsober
and those sacred
days are over
that we used to
spend alone or
just trying to
find a lover
to share the
night with
under covers
far too tangled
and disordered,
but now the nights
are so much shorter
because we are
getting older
each and
every
day