I lay on my side
knees curved in toward my belly.
I'm in a field of windswept wildflower
my skin silhouetted against sky
blending into landscape.

Blue eyes spark
face in rough hands
I float
fall though Him.

A breeze blows
pink petals against my thighs
and the camera rises.

A feather, white, tickles skin-

Snap.

One time,
two,
and then a third.

Laying bare, yet He never touches.
Beautiful.

Have you found Him
he whom my soul loves?
He lives in a house of angels.

Surely
I would have held Him
and not let Him go.
How beautiful He was-
a landscape of Stargazer.

In windswept breath
a like vision appears:
He whom my soul loves
frozen in a photo of tears.

And here I wait
for a different view-
maybe of an ocean with deep trenches and towering waves
blue far beyond the horizon.
But it's the same old nonsense with you.
That narrow mind
and the mold you have made
of the person of your own choosing.
Dead leaves crackle underfoot
and still you walk on.
Green eyes searching for something that was never quite there
aside from what existis in your own sick mind.
Just one little clue
to justify and satisfy
an ugly blackened core.
I am what you say that I am
that-
and so much more.

A mouth like no other

so sinfully sweet.

To a woman you belong now

not some silly girl

 popping gum, twirling hair, cheating on science tests.

I turn back the hour hand on the mantle clock

and a vision appears:

We stand at the top of a mountain

snowy, crisp, and cool

setting our eyes on the wide desert below.

The view is clear,

and in your embrace I shutter whole

melting in you like the snow under foot.

I want you to tell me to stay-

You don't

and

you can't.

This is life now:

Me on top of a mountain

and you,

in the desert below.

Close your eyes,
picture it:
we're making soup out of grass and water
and we leave it out in the sun.

with mud on our faces
we sit and laugh.

Mom in the kitchen window
raps on the glass-
it's time to come inside.

Fast forward now
25 years
and there you sit

ALONE

in your prison
of bottles and steel bars.

A stranger now-
a mere outline
of what is left

a gift my parents gave me-
my brother.