honey bee

in the midst
     of
buzz-buzz-
buzzin’
against your
    window

i see those
evergreen
   eyes
through
glass

oh   my

how the sun
     shines
through
your
blinds

my body’s
kissin’ sky
   now
and your
belly-button
is the
          sun

you pressed
me
into a   flower
 into
        your
favorite
            poem

re-read our
    story
as words
      try
to      describe
the
    beauty
of evergreen
    pines

Advertisements

Bright Blue 

follow my
lines
curve of my
hips

thin gold silver
light
bounces off
thighs

glitter sheen
sparkle
curve of your
lips

swimming over
underneath
waves in your
eyes

flesh on flesh
feel of
your shoulders
against mine

cut into me
like the sun
through the
blinds

at dawn
you are cool
as morning
dew

hands float
down my
back
bone

lips on my
neck
color of
you

bright bright blue

leave me
at sunrise
but never
alone

bright blue

The Painter

infinite stretch
I reach
 rub green through   Nature
trees on my
    fingertips
    color of our lungs
on rainy afternoons
    a lush world
blooms slow
like a    Lotus
     half-open
I wait
     planet of mud
 hands     outstretched
      to the blue
it pours
               leaves
are greener
     lost nights
I write
     places with
pumpkin purple
     horizons
and
  blood orange
      suns
      smeared ink
I erase
  blood blue
        stains
  on      page
        when the pen
     breaks
   I bleed     out

The Pull

never used the room we had
    to grow sunflowers
instead, it rained
    drenching your curls

flattening my face

green filled the space
     but yellow never surfaced
lost in tall grass, i cried
     you rode the leaves into sky

i waited, below

winter came, all was barren
     your breath chilled my bones
i sucked in your air
     like when you vacuumed

like a madman

yet crumbs, hair, lint, and dirt

     remained

i lay on black carpet
     with a blue heart
you stare with black eyes
     whirlwind of dust drags me
all the way back to you

Lifeguard

you
brought the
   blood
and home-
        made salt

it stung
when you
       pricked          me
with that
dirty
needle

I gargled
    salt water           for days
while you
      watched

dehydrated, I
      waited
for the
water
    from your
veins

shriveled up
                 on my
bedroom carpet
    salty
    water
    pour
     ing
from my eyes
 you        watched,
        you waited

current
takes my
                                flimsy
                    body
pulls it
with your tongue
                  lifeless
like the
     shell     of a       crab
              who sheds
exoskeletons
from

time

      to

 time

I was Seven When She Loved Me

My mother sits outside with our neighbor, drinking red wine, mingling with the starry sky. I run, barefoot and fast, into the night. She is at ease while we live in Sayreville. I’m not sure if it’s the wine or the sound of the cicadas. In the summer, my mother is free. As am I, being a child, playing with the earth. 

Years later, we become shackled. Far apart, but stuck together with tree sap. 

Saving the Planet

Saving The Planet

                                     Earth day slapped me in the face
with blue and green continents
that turned black — not only at night.
Smoke stacks and bright lights                    escaping hustle bustle
rustled the trees

when the wind blew                            across              the              concrete        jungle
and into my lungs,
it tasted                                            like dust, like lost children and struggling   mothers,
like soap and milk cartons and M&M’s.

                                                     Disgusting.
I took a bite of my life and it tasted like trees.

Previous Older Entries