He moved so smoothly through me
So deftly he stole my pride
So swiftly my heart
He always seemed in shadow
Hidden
Hollow
We stared out his window
Sultry summer
Sweet heavy air
We spoke of poets and moons
Never doubting
Never counting
He held the moment like a balloon on a string
He held me like I was new
But the balloon and I were let go easily
We knew our little story
We didn’t need any others
But there’s always an end
He can’t pretend
We can’t go back
That little room above the shop is locked.
The Breakdown of the Breakup

The reasons were numerous and ludicrous. They tried to talk it out calmly, but logic was not welcome here. There- an argument that made no sense. There- a request too disgusting to dignify with a response. On the one hand everything fit. They looked right. They fit just right. They were already traveling side by side. Why not join in other elemental ways? On the other hand, she was strung way too tightly, he was a pig. She was looking to slip into sophistication. He was looking to live out a real life porno.
Sometimes there is no middle ground when what you’re looking for isn’t even on the same plane. How they didn’t see this coming, nobody knew. Their volatility was obvious to even a casual bystander. Every day at lunch, they bantered at the pizza place on the square, scorching wit paired with playing footsie under the table. Sparks flew. Curses abounded. It was all very entertaining. But there was a brittle edge that belied the ease of the relationship.
She was a rookie in the corporate world, taking in her surroundings. He was a shark, swimming and feeding and fucking with no conscience. Their appeal originally had to be proximity. Too many hours in the office. You pass a decorated cake often enough, you’ll want a piece even if you’re more the pie type. They would soon find they weren’t even made of the same stuff; she was a German Chocolate cake, with several ingredients and complicated timing. He was a bear claw- a fried piece of dough with sweet icing and fierce appearance. OK. Enough with the bakery analogies.
Somehow, their wildly different backgrounds and cultures had been overlooked at the outset. They were dazzled by the sleek, new models they found in each other. The new car smell was intoxicating, so to speak. Before getting into vehicular metaphors, we can just come to an understanding that all was new and glorious and exciting, as it always is in the beginning. What was surprising in this case was the speed at which their “love” imploded. There is an acceptable trajectory and this was like a fast-moving comet.
Can too many metaphors spoil a saucy tale?
So back to the breakup. She wanted to see this through, give it a shot, at least have a last hurrah. He wanted to do things to her that made her gag. Someday maybe she’d have regrets, but she was still young enough to be shocked. Someday he’s find someone he wouldn’t want to use as a foul toy, but he was too jaded at that point in time to have any focus.
So there was yelling. Pushing. Nudity. Shock. Sleep. Accusations. Jokes. Incredulity. Leering. Magnetism. Ten states of matter that mixed and proved combustible to this couple. They would later only have flashes of memory of their time together. How they walked through the city, quickly and in step with each other. How they shared a few quiet moments in the elevator. How they ate in companionable silence and danced in a darkened club. How they moved together. Looked to each other. Like shards stuck in amber, those few moments will last longer than either of them would admit.
Queen of Spades
Hail, queen of the idiots!
I am to be revered for all my quirks and foibles.
You must feel like bowing in the face of such incompetence.
Or at least feel like running away.
No truer words need be said besides touting all the times I’ve tripped and erred.
I’m not sure I’d recognize the right path no matter how well trimmed and lit;
I much prefer making things hard on myself.
Life may be difficult, but I only wallow in comfort when I’m in extreme discomfort.
Have things ever gone smoothly?
Of course but the times were fleeting at best.
Do we rise to our stupidity? Sink to our depravity?
What makes us keep trying?
Do connections really count or is all the time we spend an excuse and distraction from the torment we hold at bay, the fate that we know lurks around the corner.
Hope abandoned long ago, my heart has atrophied.
The only fluttering I feel is the moths flying out of the closet.
Carve a Tapestry
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, though I may be slower finding my place
It’s hard finding a place to step between the cracks
Carving a path when there are signs pointing another way
My goals are vague
My morals suspect
My fears are like everyone’s
My ideas are my own
There’s never been a time I felt at ease, though I don’t have those aspirations any longer
It’s tough to be satisfied as you set to expose an approved self
Creating a figure out of so many others’ threads
You’re a tapestry
Your voice rings true
You have a place with me.
Gone
Finally a minute to breathe and I find you gone
So much noise to sift through
Too many choices
I’m sorry I’m so weak
I couldn’t tear my eyes away
The ugliness drew me in
I was listless and lost
The phantom sensations and tastes were magic
No thought was necessary
Only feeling
A whole day wasted
When it could have been with you




