holy hibernation

In between 

buzzfeed Beyonce Beiber and Gates

I pause 

cornered and craving holy hibernation

with screenless motion

look me in the eye and hold my hand

touch and hold this skin 

past this global lonely 

and last 

where water is without warning

and moments mean more than money

i hold gold in memories

made with you and you and you

in bed beside my mother

her spine to mine

a pressed, blessed bond 

bold and brief this time

between out

walk over wire

ill fight you baby
fight for the cause
wrap myself in fire
break my soul for your laws
I'll carry the burden
rub my skin bare
i'll do it sweet thing
just to show that i care

i'll praise the witches of eastwick
Jack Nicholson too
bow down to the stories

you hold tight and you hold true
i'll carry the blame
I'll bury your share
i'll do it sweet thing
just to show that i care
i'll do it sweet thing
just to show that i care

i can give it all
and I won't beg for a ring
but my love won't mean nothing
if the sparrow can not sing

i'll make toast in the morning

bake a sweet cherry pie

walk over wire

40 feet in the sky
i'll cradle your babies

wash your soft dirty hair

i'll do it sweet thing

just to show that I care

i'll risk my reputation
wear the mark of shame
build a fortress for you
be the tiger you can tame
i'll study your secrets
just like a prayer
i'll do it sweet thing
just to show that i care.
i'll do it sweet thing
just to show that i care.

i can give it all
and I won't beg for a ring
but my love won't mean nothing
if the sparrow can not sing

for dad, the 87th year

you would be 87 on Friday
and we would give you butter
with bread.

in my mind i stand in the old kitchen.
i smell your burnt toast
and hear you smile.
'it's good. it will put hair on your chest.'

competition for you was complex
and ran deep among us.
nine children needing
needing
needing
needing
needing
needing
needing
needing
needing.

for some, there was more than enough.
for others, there was never enough.
somewhere in the middle lies the truth.

i remember being on a ship in Canada after the divorce
and a woman told you what great legs you had.
your eyes lit up in confusion.

there were nine of us.
plus you, plus mom.
22 hands, 11 hearts
needing love, attention, bread, butter, forgiveness.

the earth has turned five years
and nine of us are all still down here in need.

somewhere out there,
as atoms or soul
in space and time and beyond,
i hope you realize how great your legs were
and how much hair we have on ours chests.

willing

caught up in notions familiar from birth
what once was comfortable won't always bring comfort.

i am reborn again against your skin.

inside your compassion pressed upon my chest
there is safety for spirit.
there is trust for touch.
there is water for washing.

our hips curve with wisdom.
our lips flush with fervor.
our bellies are full.

unknown shapes and unseen colors
unfold on the horizon
and my legs shake with grace.

i am willing love.

inside a barbed wire hug

i can see the errors in my grammar
and bite my tongue to avoid mistakes
before i speak.

chopsticks balanced crumbs
stabbed my lips,
splintered your thumbs.

when my angel died,
it was still about your splinters.
empathy was out to lunch.

your paranoia dragged my bones down marble staircases
shattered my teeth against the curb
and demanded I smile pretty for the public.

put the puzzle together
inside a barbed wire hug
and love,
unconditionally.

untitled, one

as our fingers tango down our spines
there is fire in my veins

now,
we are new

i see through closed eyes
and memorize the shape of you in my arms
and place the moment in the top right drawer of my brain
beside the finest bottle of merlot and the voice of nina simone

we were not made to be owned
so transparency yields authenticity
and freedom yields evolution

if nipples radiate through this cotton top,
the world won't stop
and we will stare in awe at the clouds above,
regardless.

beauty will always expose itself,
forever please pay attention with me.

i have known you for centuries
today is one more day.

Autumn

The clouds are changing with the leaves,

punching new shape and color in the sky

and death is beautifully unfolding with grace.

That October a hurricane killed electricity

and brought us together at the crossroads of our living.

You found me surviving,

I found you dying.

Chewing oxygen and steroids

we drank coffee and danced a heartbreaking waltz.

You wrapped your hands around my wrists and whispered:

“leave, you are strong enough to leave.”

Your words echoed for two long years

while my courage cooked slow and narrow in tiny corners.

Mother, where is the Rottweiler you watched me raise?

My mouth can’t form her name without the taste of vomit.

Leaving has left my heart dirty,  

but staying made my soul stiff.

I hate rules and rigidity that weaken my handshake.

When you leapt, did you feel the same?

Monarchs in milkweed stir an Autumn fever

and I ache to migrate beyond my current self.