You can finish my sentences.
This is sweet and
It means you also know
which strings to pull
to activate
my weaknesses.

I never saw it coming.
Such a silent unassuming assassin.
Floating in on
venom-tipped feathers
to pleasantly paralyze
my depleted defenses.

But I’m no fool.
And I’m a better poet than you.
So I’m off to write better sentences
that you
could never complete.



I think of the darkest places I have been
and I know
this is not that
this is not black

it is blue
it is a billion translucent saltwater drops
absorbing all the fiery pain of long wavelengths
and reflecting back the bright chill of short-lived sapphires

not darkness
but blinding light.


For the most part, I’m ok.
But then

a silence will settle and
an ache
will radiate
from the center of my ribcage

twisting lungs & larynx into suffocating lumps
curdling memories along the sour synaptic connection
     between digestive and cerebral systems
detonating dormant tear ducts

and surfacing
like a hundred subtle stab wounds
on my desolate skin.

Always & Forever

At some points I trust you completely,
At others, not at all—

Who are you,
beautiful stranger?
And who am I?
And what is love?
And is it enough that we ask the same questions,
or must we wait for answers?

My heart and lungs run ahead
while my mind lags behind
and gets lost trying to find
reason in an unreasonable feeling.

A feeling I’ve felt before—
sort of
not quite.
No, never quite the same.

Is there
a First and a Last Love?
Is the quest for
One True Love
a fool’s errand illusion?

I want to imagine you have
no past
only a future
with me.
Because if we acknowledge our
past loves
that must mean that the
present love
is woefully un-unique
and could dissolve at any moment.

How can we trust anything in this ephemeral existence?

Sure, the cloud’s condensation cycles
down – in – up – around – through
the Earth and the Atmosphere
& forever.

It’s never gone.
But it’s never the same.

At some points I trust you completely,
At others, not at all—
and ever-changing.