Saturday, August 13, 2011

We can never really know one another


Buckets filling abundant glitter smoked
night skies of fleeting feelings
staying up into the wee hours
because I don't want to wake up
and have this feeling be gone by morning.

Making maps of backyard memories
and all the pain in my body.
The various places where I have felt
how special it is to love.

In my hips, my head, my heart, my toes.

I will show you this map one day
if you have not already
come to know it.


Friday, August 12, 2011


It doesn't quite hit until the bottom.
After I have completely committed to falling.
Until I have completely committed to standing up.
To looking around.