Yesterday.

A frazzle mess of
black bean bumble bees
and tell me that she drinks a lot

a hot of sorta knotty naught
I want to make you
kung pow shots
but you don't like
infusion meals
and pretend I didn't steal it.

Is he happy?
What's happy really?
I'm happy.
Then he's not.
'cause you are.

Barcelona doesn't understand
that tapas is meant to be free.
My Christmas tree is black and red
all dripped in chocolate truffle.

We caroled on the
uke-uke troop
and grinned as the North Pole
surprised us.

But I've got spiders in my back
can't wait til the nothing returns.

Anniversary 12.18.2011

Two years
Two years ago
Two years ago today

You: murder-suicide.
the anniversary of our death

I loved you so much
I drove to see you
You.

Because you were home
Because you avoided bullets and fatality
dodged the knife
plane crash
pirate raid
and kidnapping
only for this.

You: ungrateful.
: unreal.

Two years
Two years ago
Two years ago today

You loved me so much
held me like you cared
without condition
fashioned as a true friend

You: traitor.

Always too kind
too long
and too close

And I trusted you.

You: fire squad.
: bloody teeth.
: burning lungs.

And an E.R. nurse telling me
I was lucky

She'd seen so much worse

Two years
Two years ago
Two years ago today

You: winking.
Me: starting to feel my drink.

Climbing into the back of your truck.
You would never hurt me.
You loved me so much.
You would never-

You: coward.
: lies.
: deceit.
and: Mother FUCKER!

I have two years of rage for you!
I have un-served justice
and regret!

You: ruined everything.
Me: triumphant, almost.

Two years
Two years ago
Two years ago today

My body still repulsed
You: twisted.

sick shock horror
pain and treachery
tears in my skin
disarmed piece by
leggings
socks
shoes
shorts
shirt
shirt
and
the only bra I owned

I gave it to the nurse.
I didn't want it anymore.

And I knew better.
But I still showered
dipped head-to-toe
in turpentine
trying to undo
how you fucked my synapses
without permission.

Two years
Two years ago
Two fucking years ago today

You: COULD HAVE ASKED!
You: could have bought me flowers.
: chocolate.
: anything but poison.

You didn't even give me a chance
to fight
you know I would have killed you
I would have let you live

You: motherfuckingsonofabitch
Ihatetheverythoughtofyouand
hellistoogoodforyourkind!

Me: I still miss you.

Clay birds.

Alone with you
we sit
just shadow
by shadow

you give yourself
to me
soft notes
down voice

You share your heart
alone with me
tired hands
bent chords
lines of sky

and I know you:
molded in clay
eyes; ears; hands.
birds; bricks; bones.

you sing for me
soul on my heart
tired eyes
sloppy hands

and no one compares

Dinner with My Father

Tonight I will dance on my father's toes

with broken feet

a creasing eye

I am grown now

your little one

your twin bird

and another man calls me

Darling

But you are the bones I drape upon

each step to dance

taken in turn of teaching

you taught me to dance

taught me to laugh

taught me to fly

pressing tiny toes

to the tops of your feet

tonight I am your girl

I will dance on with my toes

on your broken feet

Your smile is sagged like mine

our eyes fold as mirrors

I am yours

and will always be

your girl.

mis mentiras

Are you soft enough to forgive me?

Can you bend your heart instead of breaking?

When I loved you, I never touched you.

Tender kisses wrapped in freedom, fear, and apprehension.

When I touched you, I didn't love you.

Threw you down trying hard,

so hard, desperately searching

for the thing my heart used to feel.

I was ruined by heartbreak.

I was broken my love.

Two men came.

One broke my bones.

another my soul.

And my spirit flitted free from my body.

I know you felt it.

New callouses on my skin.

A new harshness to my hands.

You were all I had left.

You were all that I had.

So I tried, so desperate.

I was so desperate.

I knew that I'd loved you.

I needed to feel that again.

But when I touched you, I didn't love you.

Can you ever forgive me?

Are we old enough to set our minds

over our hearts?

I'm not sure we ever will be.

Thursday from the Water Tower

Winter days like this are made for pumpkin spice coffee

and red monster blankets

I was up to watch the sun

she rose from the western crest of Mount Rainier

bright pink and shivered.

I slipped the early riser back into bed

snuggled her close to the sheets

under the spell of her fairy tale.

And now the sun has made a half-light

strange from the underside up

she settles beneath the new found horizon

made reflecting by a span of fresh cloud.

She stretches out golden-

a gold that can only be seen at dusk or

a gently winder dawn; and

the lawn is flanked with it.

This day is my Julia Child's omelet

flipped in imperfection

but delicious, like New Year's morning

bright in a cold wood room

mildly intoxicated

slipping down the steps for the taste of an old love

and I refuse to use a spatula.

The Stars claim my ex-lover is dead.

Yet an overcast sun lifting high above the shadows whispers,

"She is not dead. But the love is."
My ex-lover is a tyrant.

She is the ocean crashing waves against the moon.

My ex-lover doesn't make cookie rage

she is cookie rage!
And I am proud to become her process.

We measure:
2 tsp gun powder

1/4 c acid rain

3 tbsp volcanic rock and

1 soft boiled egg.

She is ingrained in everything I write.

She infiltrates my quiet morning and

sinks teeth into my pumpkin spice.

Fortune is unavoidable.

As the sun abreast the peak

As tears resting my father-in-law's perfectly manicured lawn

As my unfaltering devotion to my new life

I am not searching for a way out.

I am searching for a way in.