When I was queen

 

snow tree under light

 

 

in and out of the car
snow in my hair
icy wind
biting my skin

 

 

these are the days
that wake me up
and remind me that
I am alive

 

 

skin tingling
an old voice in my head
above me the street lamps pop on
the snow turning to sleet
and I turn on the windshield wipers

 

-I felt like a Queen then-

 

but I turn off the voice
listening to the wipers
instead
and the snow hitting the car

 

 

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Monday Random–been a while

  • My last Monday Random featurette was in November.
  • I am slacking in a few things
  • The words keep coming but they are not all in order
  • I find it difficult to even look at my novels right now
  • But I must finish
  • I did not make New Year’s resolutions this year, except perhaps an unspoken one, that I would finish all my started projects
  • I love the start!
  • Continue reading “Monday Random–been a while”

Vinegar waltz

We are kept
contained in all our tsunami’s
we rise, still in a pickle
treading, if not swimming
despite the blessings
bestowed day upon day
dreams may sour
the lip of the jar, closer
but still up above, beyond
while we wait for the next
twirling, whirling pool
sometimes leaving us
dizzy and sick
and other days
we assume the position
and dance

*

carousel
of random thoughts
carry me
past this place
into our first apartment
our noisy haven

with a date
written
into my notebook
and your eyes seeking mine
for the first time in a decade
I can sleep now

We two

How come every time I kiss your neck
you smell like the wind?
how come every time I kiss your neck
you smell like the wind–
the outdoors as if you were born there and come home
each time you open the doors, kissed by sun and shower
every time you walk barefoot up the walk

Your hair hanging over my face
makes me think of corn silk
and I want to kiss your ear, every time
smelling the earth in your hair, and
the world I have not traveled much of yet
has left a map across your cheeks
and over your nose, which I know
will wrinkle as you read these words

Don’t be unkind–like lightning–when
I don’t translate it well; don’t ask too many questions, please
I already don’t feel your heart–
it stopped when you read the fourth line, when
you felt my lips on your neck and an earthquake rumbled under us
when I bit your flesh there, when I bit you
as sure as you are sulking

How come we speak two languages when we connect in space? Why
do I break orbit when I try to plug you into my psyche, tell me
why is it impossible to fully be one on this sphere–
us here, we there–the wind and rain in your skin and your hair, tell me
why can we not be one like weather and ocean
and the stars and the air

How come–

dreaming, he says

dreaming
he lays
strangers’ steps’ echoes
through the sad city
where mansions
keep vigil
from the sea
to the rocky mount

life and death
is none to him
not breathless, nor feverish
his only occupation
a mover of shadows

his angel
an English rose
wooed
by the threshold of time
and his soul
that has slept away
the evening hours

it is not as if I kept a list

00lacytree

it was snowing a few days before Christmas
and he put his jacket around my shoulders
the smell of leather, a memory, rose
between us
in the clouds from our mouths

the snow looked like diamonds in my hair
he said, and kissed my forehead
while I finished my story, about
the one that got away, the one
that broke me in two for ten months–

he laughed a little at the end
and I shrugged, running a block ahead
while he picked up his jacket
brushed it off
and tried to make sense of me

catching up he grabbed my arm
and I pulled it away
then he called me sweetheart
and I stopped. ‘didn’t you break some hearts
back then?’ he asked–

I turned and smiled, and
he handed me his coat
putting my arms into the sleeves.
I held his hands

‘yeah I did, didn’t I? huh, I had forgotten,’
I said–
and we walked through the park
until it stopped snowing, until
we had run out of memories to tell