Postcards from the path, rough drafts from the heart.

Tell me what you Need

Do you have any idea
how much pleasure I
can give? It excites 
me to consider what I
could, I will do for you.
Everyone else is a bore, 
I want to be your brand new
version of everything you
have ever felt. Wanted. Let
me fulfill and seal our 
desire.  With me you will
want for absolutely nothing.
I am what you most need;
Find me.


Perspective

The words run dry in my mind.
I catalogue what I know: early
in the morning I cradle my child,
and she is all that matters. 
Blond tendrils, smooth cheeks,
I am everything to her, I
live to make her happy.  This
is why I stay in this house,
why I bide my time, this is
why I find myself torn between
four people on a Friday night,
because I do what I can to stay
sane.  This sounds like an excuse,
a rationalization.  I appear to be
hiding from life.  But I lay still
like a viper, for years if that’s
what it takes. When I know my
daughter is taken care of, I will
have the luxury to follow my
heart.  What I lose in the process
is the price I pay to be a mother.

"nothing can hurt you unless you want it to
there are no answers 
only reasons to be strong
you take a walk and you try to understand
nothing can hurt you unless you want it to”

A song that inspired a generation of music.  

Hope as an Exhale

Can your feelings 
regenerate like a
lizard’s lost tail?

Hope is not a linen
flag to be hung out
the window.   

I close and re-close this
window, this chapter.
Do not place a marker here,
do not prop it open

unless you will read
along with me. 

She was ashamed of herself, quite ashamed of being so nervous, so overcome by a trifle; but so it was, and it required a long application of solitude and reflection to recover her.
- Persuasion, Jane Austen

Crowded Hollowness

My insides loop,
repeat for a shocking
number of months.  
Earnestly, I try on new
loves, but the marrow
is missing. I retreat,
occupy a crowded
hollowness. 



Looks intense, but not entirely bad. Take it as it comes…
Looks intense, but not entirely bad. Take it as it comes…

Looks intense, but not entirely bad. Take it as it comes…

An earthquake and
early rains signal
summer’s end. 

Dusk an hour out, I
read Updike on a cat-
scratched couch. 

I hear the tread,
tires on drive,
your voice ripples

through reddening leaves.
You note my book, my
drink, I look cozy, you

say, in a way that indicates
you want to join me.  But
we smile politely, dodge

eye contact, and after
dinner I tumble like a child
off a tricycle.  I scrape

elbow on carpet weave.  
I fall asleep before you
have a chance not to leave.