it’s a metaphor, folks

they were sitting in a parked car.

they faced away from each other and her arms were crossed.

his hands were in his lap.

they love each other, these two,
by the way, it’s just
their posture exhibits differently
once in a while.

what’s so amazing he said
eyes holding steady on the side-view mirror
is that the fire never goes out.

she nodded silently
a quarter inch of affirmation
and he sensed the movement.

every time i think the fire
has burned itself to embers
glowing in the dark,

he paused and turned to her
his shoulders and the muscles of
his upper back pressed against the
seat as his weight shifted.

he watched the curve in her neck
as he spoke, she she still held her eyes
up and away and to the right.

her breathing pattern changed
and he heard it and saw the
dip in her posture
that practically screamed i love you, too,
i am listening, please continue.

something stokes what i thought was ash
maybe i catch your scent again or
i see the way you look at me and
flames again lick the night sky
towering over 
silhouettes of pines and oak
drowning out the moon and stars
and . . . well. you know. 

and it never stops. 
it is a fire that burns 
and instead of running out of fuel
and heat this inferno only 
grows and i hope that’s ok
with you.

it *is* cider season

i spent the last twenty minutes


to write for you a poem

and sew us even closer together

through my use of imagery

but i was a little too hungry

and distracted by the

crunch of german pronunciation

(i’m in class right now)

to build for you

verses you deserve

so i’ll improvise and say

let us be an orchard

tucked away in rolling hills

and as the sun sets west of us

and our apples catch her last light

before the moon borrows

sun’s dress for the night

and keeps us company

together, you and me

an orchard in green rolling hills

alive and smelling of fall

and the way we always smell

when the sun is in our hair

or leaves, i guess, to keep up with my metaphor


i’m ok being your boutique

i thought i should tell you that i rather enjoy

the more and more i know you

and you come to know me

when what ‘should’ happen is

the bell above the door crinkles upon our entrance and

we make our way among the aisles of each other and

we find cracks or

excuse me the fabric bunches here or

the color here it’s faded now that i look closely or

wait is it supposed to sound like that i’m not so sure

that never happens what happens is
oh yes i am even more sure
this is what i want this is
what i came in here for
no i don’t need the receipt
i will not be making any returns.

most likely at topsail though i’m not sure

when i was eight

a wave caught me and dragged me under

well actually she swept me up from the ocean floor

my feet and body entirely unanchored


i was entirely at her mercy

she rolled and dragged me and my body was not my own and she owned me


she took me

and so i fought free and she has never claimed me since

the ocean herself the world’s most powerful muscle
not even she could take and keep me

and you

you own me like the ocean
you catch me in your teeth
and shake me about and

i want you to.

it is a joyful thing.

that’s all.

a figure eight of sorts

‘this is odd’ he said aloud

‘how do you mean’ she said

they were planets, by the way.

‘it seems i am orbiting you’ he confessed a bit shyly.

‘well come to think of it’ she mused ‘i seem to be revolving around you as well.’

‘your gravity is wonderful’ he whispered, a red tinge in his blushing atmosphere.

‘so is yours’ she smiled.

i still struggle with childproof bottle caps

i hope it’s ok

that at the age of 33

hairline at low tide

and with a mortgage

and more debt than i’d like to admit

and ok big handsome muscles, fine i’ll admit it

and laugh lines in the right places

and callouses on my hands that catch on paper towels

that what i want to be when i grow up

laugh at the idea of ever considering myself ‘the’ grownup in any room, and

have we discussed how i love words becoming different words
or parts of speech when a space is removed and
we bring them together?
it’s kinda romantic, like how you and i become

i will work out. my workout was great.
        (verbal)         (noun)
you could have every man. i want to be your everyman.
                          (qualifier, noun)                    (super noun)
when i am grown up, i still won’t be a grownup.
(verbal)                      (damn right, i wont)

ok, sorry, maybe another thing on my list

about myself is that i get excited about

inane intricacies of language and stories, and

what i want to be when i grow up is