Why

I didn't come here
to write; I came
here to speak. The
page just so happens
to be tender enough
to be receptive--
the pen seduces me.
I don't ask for much--
be my reader, my lover, my muse.

Blame It On the Rain

this is the rest of the story, written on
pages inserted later, after you had already
gone to bed for the night. i'll let you in
on the epilogue after you've finished what
i slipped under your door (i hope you don't
mind; i saw your light was on, but i didn't
want to knock). i'm sorry that the ink is
smeared a little. it's the rain's fault.
(please don't start singing "Blame It On the
Rain.") i'm sorry this is so late. hopefully
its quality will make up for its tardiness.

Limn

RAVEN
Says I am invisible in my feathers

That bird, leaf in her mouth, is not a dove, but a raven.

She cannot assign peace without squawking--
a cry that slices: a sudden cut in the sky.

Someone blurted, "I cannot tell the difference

between ravens and crows."

She is invisible in feathers. In-
visible, but with a deafening call, a tired song: nevermore.

That bird, leaf in her mouth, is not a dove, but a raven.

She, not elegant, but clumsy can only
drop the leaf.

Flicker

If the sunlight catches your hair, refracts
the strands just for him, let it.
I've got a man who's closer to the sun.
He holds me like I'm made of glass.
Glossy is how I shine.

And we make love nestled between rays
while you melt noiselessly in the shadows,
afraid to do more than flicker in the darkness.

Atomic

It was more like the center had melted--
the city walls were as thin as foil
with a host and some guests buried beneath
the molten intentions of those who knew better.

Someone somewhere was checking off names,
just words on a piece of paper, nothing more.
To him, each name didn't belong to a mind that
held a dream so tightly, it died with him.

Little did he know       what happened
as the Flesh burned together, becoming One Flesh.
He didn't think about    what happened
when they spread their arms and folded them over

each other, like pages of notebook paper.
They took a breath, and they were gone,
their thoughts scattered like ash across
the indifferent sky, and someone somewhere

feels tired, and bored.