Crystal

In silent spaces
my ear forms a rim
like the rim of a crystal
glass when it's wet
and singing.
While your ear holds
the silence inside the glass,
I hear its crystalline song,
spinning with invisible fingers.

~October 26, 2010

A Star if Poisoned

Poison.
Words dripped from your lips
that I'll never hear.
Skin shed from skin
a spindle of fear
splash of anger on
the backdrop of my day.
Not fair.
Never here.
You're a star with no
sky because I blotted you
out.
Now I'm a sky with no star.

~Autumn 2010

Reverse

The problem with searching for cause
is that not everything was bad.
When I say that I want to be
understood, I forget that he did.
When I say I want acceptance, I
forget that he gave it.
When I say I want a world our own,
I forget that we lived there.
But when I write this I remember
that the world was in our
computers,
that he didn't like my skirt
and that I could not explain myself
to my own satisfaction.
Until now, when I find cause.

~October 7, 2010

Height and Breadth

I'm a surfer riding waves of grief,
always searching for the bigger one
that will take me up high enough
to see the breadth of my loss.
The heights of sadness have not been
enough to tide me over till the next
crashing joy. My exploring heart
got wedged in in the deepest crack
of the tallest mountain, and no ocean
can reach to wash it out.

~Autumn 2010

Fabric

My family is fabric that is faded

and threadbare, and yet I still try

to use it to keep myself warm.

Today the wind is blustering

and I can feel each tear, each

cold spot where nothing is left.

I cannot stitch every stitch back.

I do not know what colors to use

and do not have enough thread.

My fingers cramp from trying

to hold the needle and my eyes

strain every moment.

My family is not a loom,

and it will never

be made of whole cloth.

~October 3, 2010

Purpose

Last fall, leaves had a purpose

in changing their color,

air had a purpose

in being cold.

Mornings had a purpose in

breaking early and nights in

falling.

Last fall.

Falling in love was purpose.

This fall there is none.

Leaves stay green but tumble

in spite of it,

cold is chilling

and I cannot love sun or moon.

I know it's me, not the season;

the world's autumn

seen through mine.

Either way, the sun has

crossed the equinox, and

left my life behind.

~October 3, 2010

Limbo

Limbo is between being a child and an adult

between loving you and hating you

between last year and next.

I don't know what happens

what happened

what will happen.

Limbo is an ocean where all I can see

is water, and still I'm supposed to

keep swimming.

~October 3, 2010