[untitled]

our baggage unpacked
we continue to sort and discard
a process arduous and fraught
with possibilities uncounted
but we are armed with our experiences
and are aware of the stakes

her bluing eyes ravish in their intensity
unwavering and beautiful
her face long with trouble and frustration
savage and carnal

she touches me in secret ways
and i sink into her forgiving softness

if she only loved people as she does animals
but then, that is what she reserves for me

[untitled]

drunken photos for him and not for me
beautiful and wanting in her sadness

pithy sarcasm for him and not for me
ugly and defiant in her anger

what is it she regrets, I wonder
if anything
for me and not for him

[untitled]

These cold November tones have come again
to fill my eyes with dead water
And in my mind a sliver
shivers through it's ritual memory

working with words on the clock
playing with words on the train
disinterested disinterment