Come in.

I think my favorite thing so far
is how he already
treats me
with the acuity
of an old friend; embracing
flaws, teasing out quirks and telling me
his dirty jokes because he knows
I’ll laugh just as hard
and then we’ll stare
a little while, smirking in a somewhat
disbelieving silence,
still reeling from the moment just after
I knocked and he called,
“Come in.”

semantics

they were just two categories in search of criteria
bumping into one another repeatedly
on a windblown pebble beach
shoulders brushing, bodies leaning to and fro, a struggle
to hear each other
over the sound of inevitability
unconcerned, content, preoccupied with the sun in their eyes
they forgot to watch the tide
until it had curled itself around
their words and swept their meaning out
to sea, leaving only the look in her eye, the angle of his head
a lack of denial
as good as consent.

2012-02-22 14.34.16

open seventh

You tend to use
a lot
of open seventh
chords, he observed.
 
I didn’t know what that meant.
 
Like this, he said, demonstrating with
his hands what I didn’t
understand.
 
Oh, I replied,
you mean the ones that sound
like they are perching
on a cusp, demanding
resolution?
 
yes, I do like those.
 

drift

I’d like to stay a while in the pre-verbal hours
of a promisingly prurient morning, when
slow smiles and eyelashes
were sufficient communication and the call of a mourning
dove provided punctuation
to a conversation
initiated
by the curve of shoulder, encouraged
by the shape of shadow lingering just below
your collar bone, and caught
in the sound our breath made
as we gradually
came awake.

when it comes right down to it

hesitate.

that’s all it takes

for me

to think that you’re afraid;

unable to articulate

what it is that holds you back,

unwilling to admit, perhaps, that

timing

is a bitch and

now

is simply not the moment-

for no good reason other than

this

is not sustainable and I

am not retainable

on such a fucking meager

ration of your

love.

2013-02-16 10.35.28