deceit

whenever the light
plays tricks
with shadows at my feet
i always think it is a cat

when it is not
a feline friend
i am
always
disappointed

99¢

i had an untamed appetite
swallowing books whole

but i knew my limits
and it came in the form
of prices listed on the monthly book order

the teacher would hand them out
and you could check a box
then attach your parent's check
clean new books would be yours

i knew how to scan the list
ignoring compelling titles
and instead look
for the one listed as 99¢

i've always known what i wanted
but i also know
what i can get

vulnerable

of course
i had to be talked into it
there was no way
i was going to be like
those girls
as much as i professed to accept
i would not
mimic their tears

they shared and cried
i shared and stared
i'm sure they saw the challenge in my eyes

because i am invincible

but then they asked about him
no no no
not about him
anyone but him
that one time i did something
i didn't plan
about how he convinced me
to abandon caution

and how thing weren't always perfect
no no no
don't ask about that
don't you dare challenge him
don't you dare challenge me

but they knew
that there
i was vulnerable
and i felt shame
because he is out of my control
and i didn't know it
until it was too late
and i was far away
and i was left exposed

you made me sit there
and feel the burn in my throat
and the anxiety in my chest
a red dragon
that is always threatening
to exhume my rage

underneath
my deep disappointment
my sadness
for learning i was not invincible
i was not enough
and i was silly

see i don't cry
but i'm vulnerable too

At the bar

We're here because you like it
to have a beer,
not to watch the game
     we're both oblivious to the array of green
     each screen attending not just to the action
     but the different colors of grass
     a tv tint can create
          see how I know more about color schemes than scores?

You think this is a concession
all about you unwinding
but I get to watch you
     by the way you're really handsome tonight
hold up two fingers to signal for a table
Not just watching though, but being seen
wanting publicly for the patrons to know
who I am
not just by my lipstick
or way I walk
but I want them to see me
reflected in the delight of your eyes

an interruption

congregations of white wisps
blowing across my sidewalk path
plants spun thin
holding the sunlight
carrying new life to the next place
like the tufts of hair
white, untamed shocks
erupting from the man who sat next to me on the bus
oh,
how beautiful and delicate

catalogue of emotions

1. stuttered

walking in the intrusive sunshine
looking for a place
to eat only an hour of my day's wages
for someplace
to sit and read a book of poetry

to flirt with the italian man
who convinces me
quite easily
to splurge for the iced tea
even though
that's the equivalent of 27 minutes
trapped at a desk
buried in computer data

knowing that my only alternative
is a shelf of ramen
at 22
you'd think i could have a freezer
so i could at least keep
a solitary tray of ice

ungrateful and stuck
like the rest of the american populace
who are living with their parents
who have long strings of degrees

who know the philosophical meaning of work
before understanding true exhaustion
who linger in the abstract
online banking
(and dating)

wandering the streets
to look for some beer
to take home and forget

2. anger

one time
i grabbed my sister's arm
and wanted to twist
to grab skin and leave marks
in a condensed moment
of unloosed energy

i didn't know
that moment could be suspended
and held so carefully

or that i would ever direct it toward you

i want to be a whirlwind in front of you
i want to tear out all of the strands of thought
that are holding me together
and spin them in front of you
to smash the cool dark complacency
that has nothing left for me

i would set myself on fire

3. knot

i've woven together
so many places
so many people
that when i go to rest
to draw it all in
all i'm left with
is an unassailable knot

it lives in the hollow of my neck

4. wanderlust

i had an excuse
when i returned
and there were no trains
there was no way for me to ride
and look
and just sit and absorb stories
while people rotated around me
opening and shutting newspapers
a world passing by

but now
i have nothing to say for myself
and i'm aching
for botanical gardens
and plays
and the way a city smells at night
to wear something tight
and dance with alcohol in my veins
lights flashing behind closed eyes

wanting to go from ocean to ocean

but i'm a trapped moth
wings battered
from what seemed bright and endearing

5. care

holding on to what is delicate and true
watching your eyes close
i've lost words
or the strength to hold on to what makes sense
the best in me has slipped away

for a moment
i don't need words of my own
watching the familiar contours and shadows
flicker across your face

for once
you trust me to sing you to sleep
wanting to show you my empty hands
as i've lost the words to say

6. jealousy

if they'd only looked at me
one glance would be all it took
they wouldn't hold hands
or sit close on the lawn
sneaking a kiss in broad daylight
one look and they'd know to stop

7. empty

i will wait
and hold myself carefully
as a clear glass
spotless and sure

allergies

how to articulate
the feverish, unstoppable stress
of allergies

filling all available cavities
with a routine reminder
that all of our metallic medicinal
wizardry

cannot halt the onslaught
of a body
that has forgotten to be a part of the world
as if we could stand aloof and serene

so that the smallest
most natural
and ancient moments,
dust in the sunlight
breeze across blossoms,
are a direct attack to our supple and cushioned selves

as if
we have forgotten
humans are meant for conflict
like we have beaten down
looming specters
of mortality and unethical rage

the world enters us
creating an unsteadiness
that reminds us
we are meant to fight

security

delighted
figures cutting through
the chill of the air
striding toward
a decadent
evening treat

shadows interrupting each other
a closeness
security
that can only be bought
with two dollar ice cream cones
and the long awaited
return on friendship

waiting for words

when you've let it all out
hundreds of I love yous
more tears than a half dozen tissue boxes can hold
where are you to go?

left with only words
but ready to discard all vowels
to just be unexamined

anything that's left
is just a wrapper
crinkled to create static
in the endless phone conversations we have

waiting
for the sweet chocolate taste of your mouth
for the language you trace
on the paper white of my back

wanting
to go where you are

closed and open

1.
tightly bound
within my winter coat

hands balled
into fists
jammed into pockets

fingers curled
against the rough edges
of you apartment keys

leaving the imprint of a memory
that there is a place
to open
to go home

2.
you open me to
believing sunlight should be
always drenching me

left behind, or in boxes

when I look for a pan at grandma's to make grilled cheese

an order that makes sense to you
an iron in the oven
locked in a place unused
a house cold and dusty

all the dinners
you can't remember how to make dinner

***

when you eat the jambalaya I made for a second night

a bowl of leftovers
tucked in your fridge
makes me feel like I'm still waiting for you

***

when you tell me what we actually picked up from your dad's house

like a comedy
where everything goes wrong
you say we have a body in the trunk
all that's left of your mom
nonchalantly tucked in with your old books

finally getting to share a joke with her
like we've met on this unconventional road trip

on the train to edinburgh

playing cards
on the train
a novelty
for an American

the lulling
two-toned sound
of each stop
along the way

hearts and spades

the cadence in your voice
mingling
with the shuffling snap of cards
landscapes made of colors
until now
unseen

hope

like trying on sandals
while winter lingers

it's a hopefulness
that cannot be shaken

coaxing the future
into existence
now

footnotes

I do not miss you
for I sleep near you always
held tight in my dreams

knickknack

it's difficult to not feel a snatch of nostalgia
when I hold
our old
memories in my hands

but maybe I don't miss you anymore

when I occupy a space you've never breathed into
you're delegated to knickknacks
keeping cracks and crevices together

maybe I miss your glue
your tenacious way of holding me tight

but maybe I don't miss you anymore

when I'm holding it together myself
white calendar blocks where your name previously resided

maybe I miss
what I can't recreate
as much as I redecorate
every little pink pill I take at night
for easy dreams
since I can't creep next door into yours

patience

head down
snot streams out
shoulders
engaged in a delicate shuffle
near silent gasps
the only betrayal

a salt-coated
cell phone
crustaceous
cradled like a conch

cracks in the window
threatening to burst wide
a deep
cool
chill
carrying the sound
of ocean sighs
too deep for words

white malaise

canvas still shrink wrapped
letters
unfinished

settling in
for a stretch
that patience won't ease

screens and screens and screens
boxes of light
all i have to look at
all i have to wait for
lighting up
growing dim