Sunday, December 5, 2010


Death is so much easier than love
and the only real way
to be set free

But my dear killer
I wish you’d looked me in the eye
as you dove the knife into my chest

I had imagined a more natural death
than to be slain by the one I love
with a cold electronic No

If only you hadn’t been so fickle
and I hadn’t been so unwavering
I would still be alive today

And though love and ghosts
can survive on wishful thinking
I’m afraid I could not

My heart looked like a mosaic when it broke
The fracturing and fissures my only source of light

Like any romance between a candle and a drop of rain
we made love as only fire and water can

But you will never be any greater
than the sum of your missed opportunities
until you stop missing them

And as for me?

My only mistake
was believing you when you said
you would never hurt me again

My only mistake
was loving you more
than you love yourself

With you I have felt the loneliest
With you I have felt the most alive

And so the refrain goes

Why did I have to be the lesson
that you refused to learn?

Wednesday, October 27, 2010


I gave my song to a scared and wounded soldier. He thought my song was a gun. He took my song to war and it was killed in battle. Now the weight of this defeat has penetrated the rules of my body. Penetration is the melody I lost. Your lips are the melody I hear in my sleep. Your lips would rather kiss a mouse than a butterfly. Aim higher. Like the songs that are written on your bones. The freedom songs. The redemption songs. Don’t tell me you’re not good enough. I have tasted the thoughts that live inside your mouth. I have traced the life in the lines of your shoulder blades. Let me press my hands to your temples and feel the rhythms. Yours and the ones that echo from your father’s drum. He is the master of this war. Taught you how to point your weapons at the ones who love you most. Stand back or I’ll shoot he says. Like father like son. Everything you want from him is everything I want from you. Funny how that happens. Underestimation is the opposite of penetration. Sound is the opposite of rejection. Remember you can choose your own legacy. Si vis amari, ama. Would it make it easier if I told you I know how you feel? It’s hard to keep fighting when all you want to do is sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to the one who left you in the trenches. Singing changes the way you breathe. Breathing changes the way you feel. Fathers change the way you love. Fear changes the way you live. Living changes the way you penetrate the body. Penetrating the body changes the way you penetrate the soul. Going to war changes everything and when everything changes nothing survives unless both sides surrender. I offered to surrender everything to you. I laid my song at your feet. You thought my song was a gun. You took my song to war and it was killed in battle. Now I live differently in my body. I live differently in my soul. I sleep with a white flag in my hand. I dance with a bullet in my chest. I wait for this war to end. I wait for you to come home. I wait for a day that will never be born. I wait.


Wednesday, September 29, 2010


To Begin:

Asleep in your arms, even if just a wish
I awoke to a letter from your father
sewn onto the pillowcase beside me

Please take care of my little boy, he wrote
especially when the days get shorter
and the leaves begin to die
He glows inwardly and you glow out
and together you illuminate my darkness

Under the Pale Shafts of the Moon:

I stashed the letter deep in your voice box
and could feel the whole world tense up
inside your chest

When I tried to take the letter back
I reached into your throat
and pulled out a river instead

I guess we better build a boat, you said

Upon Starting Construction:

I hammered your name in nails
across my chest

and noticed that the object you were building
looked more like a coffin than a boat

No matter, I thought,
both will carry us
both will float

On That Note:

Burying grief is like swallowing dynamite
after it’s already been lit

I would rather navigate a thousand storms
than ponder regret

I would rather drive for hours on the hottest day of the year
in a car without air conditioning
than not be the one who gets to pick you up

But now I am Digressing:

Emotional restraint is for anchormen and pilots

I type so I don’t explode

The point is:

I feel safe with tools in my hand
I feel free when I use my words

Now hear this:

I will never help you put nails in that coffin
not even if you tell me that we’re dead

In Conclusion:

The river is the fear.
We can sail above it.

Friday, July 2, 2010

The Dedication

This one is for you
They are all for you

Do I even have to say it?

These poems are not mine, they are yours
They are not to you, they are of you

Not only on this day but every day
Not only in this lifetime but in the next one too

These are not sentences, they are maps
They are not blindfolds, they are windows

They are not clouds, they are stones
They are not intentions, they are gifts

This one is for you
They are all for you

And I will never leave out
what I’m too afraid to say

Love redeems everything
I know this much is true

My song remains the same
and I sing it only for you

Friday, June 11, 2010



It only takes one
to ruin everything

one touch
trapped under my skin
one memory
caught in a jar
one stone
left unturned

and just like that

On this afternoon and in this moment
I want to die

You heard me

I would rather die
than live with this


Kill me now, I said

for I swear on all that is holy
if the choices were only two
given to me by the gods:

"Live with this longing or

I would surely choose
to vanish like mist

I would choose death
over pain


There are worse things to live with than love, my friend sighed
but she doesn’t believe in ghosts or grilled cheese sandwiches
so her advice cannot be trusted

Please, I said
put an end to me

or promise that one day I will wake up
and he will be beside me again

otherwise I don’t think
I can outlive this love

not in this lifetime
not even in a galaxy far, far away


I stand at the top of the Headlands
and can see a dozen airplanes
waiting for their turn to land

My hands are on my chest
so that nothing falls out

My only comfort is in knowing
that all of these bridges
lead to you

I don’t think I can outlive this love

Monday, May 17, 2010

Harvester of Verbs

Listen up my master of patience
my sea of tranquility swimmer
my dream catcher in the rye
my wonderwall

I am not a butcher's daughter I am a falling star

A pirate who waited and waited
and still could not outwait you

Your mouth is as warm and luscious as a cup of French Roast
but my mother is a flower and my father a torch
and that makes for the most incredulous fire


Our entire story can be told in verbs

My devotion to you in a song:

I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now

I want to be a pillow for you to rest your weary head
I want my insides to be the place that you call home

Before my grandmother married Zeus she was a blind sculptor
who taught me how to speak in caresses

Remember the time
I traced the bones of your face with my thumbs
memorizing the angles

Even with my eyes closed
I will always know
how beautiful you are