Saturday, September 28, 2013

viva


burnt dust
seeps through the window,
slides against the curtain,
threadbare


moves
in la brisa
piano playing fingers
at the finish
de una canćion de amor

car siren wails,
incoherent spanish
drifts up

shadows still paint
the walls,
again

at 3 am

different room,
same thoughts

just mixed
with hindsight

and

tequila shots




for reference: let's talk about the weather

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

great expectations



when the glass was full,

i almost expected you
to flick it 
to the ground

and you did
with a twist 

of your wrist

i just didn't expect
     you 
to make 
     me

walk on the pieces
barefoot and 
bleed-ing

all because i don't need you to breathe

or be







Monday, September 23, 2013

timing (and maybe silver linings)


they flitted around,
like birds

sketching
his words

absorbed in
the dance of his hands,

i very nearly missed
the glance


(nearly)

Saturday, September 21, 2013

follow you where?


breathe you in

       c o u g h

you out


            need water
                               in a draught

not second-hand smoke


and fickle stories
of 
 heading


       s o u t h


keep your cancer
to yourself


and your lyrics

                         in a box


drown them in drink


            whatever you goddamned need


      
 i'm not  y o u r s 
                                 to share  a n y m o r e



(following you down was a joke to you and your pocketfuls of smoke; nothing to see, it's all so fucking hazy)

Thursday, September 19, 2013

lest you forget


I'm pregnant. I let the words roll around my mouth, my tongue. It's yours and I'm pregnant. It sounded foreign. Pregnant. I'm pregnant and it's yours. How do you tell an almost stranger that you're carrying their child? I sat in my car, the heater blowing stale air at my face, no tears. The trees were bare, the ground cold, hard. An empty bird's nest sat, half undone, in the crook of a branch. Just sitting. Waiting.

Chiseled jaw line, hooded eyes. He was quiet, secretive. I'd met him at work. Our first date was at a nondescript college bar, one gray, grainy afternoon, only one month prior. Two nights later, we apparently hit the jackpot. Fuck. How did I do this to myself.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, eyes flitting to the rearview mirror. Waiting. His truck pulled into the lot, circled and parked. I was out of my car in an instant, walking across the spaces, dead leaves crunching under my step. He got out and looked up, confused for a second and then his face lit up, a smile spread across, his white, perfect teeth shone.

He crossed the remaining space between us and walked to me, looking at me with an expectant grin. Then he saw my face. And his changed.

What's wrong?

I just looked at him, the words I'd practiced frozen in my throat, not even making it to my tongue. I looked down at the bottle he was carrying. Jack Daniel's. It dawned on me that it was New Year's Eve. I looked up, the air icy against my hot cheeks, chafing, burning.

You're pregnant.

It wasn't a question. It just was. There. It was out. I let my breath out.


I looked at him, stared through him. Nodded.

The crack of his knees on the ground was like a gunshot. That sound told me everything. I turned towards my car, as he kneeled, dumbfounded, in the middle of the parking lot.