Better than the tangy sea
Sultry elixir
Hold me til there’s no more left
Screw the Buttons
What’s the right order?
I have all the equipment
buttons lined up in neat rows
right the fuck in front of me
But after wrenching struggles
and being worn down
by the opposite of accolades
from subpar humans
I’m stuck on something
as simple as a sequence!
No self help books necessary
no manuals for this job
When I chose to fly under the radar
I knew I’d mostly be on my own
but shit! this is ridiculous
Barely making sense to myself
almost speaking in code
the instructions were simple
but my detail-oriented brain
got in the way again
and I missed the big picture
So these buttons should be a piece of cake
if only I could remember
I’m so screwed
Perfect Like a Fall Sweater
Wrapped and curled up in soft words and dulcet tones
His gaze warms me like a sweater on a crisp fall day
Our cozy corner of the world
Smells of wood burning and tastes like caramel
I let his taste flow through me
While he cannot seem to stop his hands from smoothing over me
We’re timeless
Our search never ending within each other
Whether it’s soft sand or dry leaves beneath our toes
We are only aware of our season
With flavors and colors collected from our travels
And kept in perpetual shadow boxes
Enveloped in a haze of smoke and jazz
Smoke swirls above and drifts toward the early stars at dusk
We are fused in a contented joy
alone it seems even in crowds
I pull him closer and he holds me tighter
and we’re perfect like a sweater on a crisp fall day
A Few Handfuls of Days
And on the 19th day, she wept
Not for joy or anguish
but for the myriad emotions
swirling in her core
Barely a month ago it had begun
Then she found herself at sea
and strangely at ease
amid possibility
Newness holds promise
For there is no taint yet
to mar the smooth edges
or show any wear
She felt every crease in her being
Saw the roughness of her exterior
felt the stain deep inside
while plastering over it all with fakery
There are no steel coverings
To hide some hurts
renovating only helps
when it lies close to the surface
Only a few handfuls of days
Held the story of them
from glow to burnout
so why so much pain
When an idea takes root
And is stronger than memory
the gaping whole
is poignant for its brevity
Imagination improves on memory
Memory gets clouded by time
time heals many wounds
but it all still remains somewhere
She felt bereft
Yet was glad for the 19 days
she would keep that time close
tucked away in her mind
Craving
You can’t deny me now
Not after I’ve come so far
Through murky waters
Filled with leeches and vipers
Through dark forests
With echoes of strange creatures
When all I want
Need
Crave
Is the small patch of skin
Where you loosen your tie
And your neck and chest meet
With the whorls of hair
Tickling my nose
I just want a taste
And a place to rest my head there.
The Word Rummager 