Browsing All Posts published on »May, 2009«

[11] Every Bright and Momentary White String

May 17, 2009


Once I raced a thunderstorm, but last night I drove into one. With every bright and momentary white string that ran straight to the sky, my lungs felt like a tree that emptied every branch. Because these days–shall I call you brother and sister?–I feel like an ocean tide, waking and sleeping, driving and falling. […]

[10] Steep Away

May 5, 2009


He said she smells like rose hips and mint and when I’m around her I’m completely lost… And lost indeed because we’re afloat, sitting on a canoe in the ocean with a Union Jack burning above us and all of the stars are pushing their light through the Milky Way to howl at us and […]

[9] Little Pots of Tea

May 5, 2009


I set the fire in your veins when I took my socks and books from your house. No more little pots of tea or bowls of rice over new music you couldn’t wait to show me. Maybe this week of rain will cool the fire and perhaps we’ll wake to each other like a rainy […]

[8] Windchimes

May 2, 2009


With windchimes at my wrists, my broken heart will make a scene. When I reach out, (I’m reaching out) please catch me. I am a child who wanders into the dining room with all the adults still talking with their chinking teeth and coffee cups. I am told softly to be off to bed and […]