Soundtrack

I listen to the soundtrack of your life, replay the movie of when we were one and I imagine I can smell your scent on the sheets of my bed, feel your touch on my back as you trace circles on my skin. I light the candle that you gave me, and rub the scars …

Requiem for Jane

With the bitterness of the cold north wind, with fluid grace through the warm summer air, she wrote her last words, a message to send. With the tears falling, all that she could care now words on paper, written with a fair, steady hand and a tender, broken heart. The minutes passed slowly, none left …

God’s poltergeist

She cries at my words, dreams of what once was and chases God’s poltergeist. I smile at her, hand moving hair from face and say with a look what words fail to. The adventure is in the journey, destination means there is an end and I refuse to be missed when the moments can still …

Potato Soup

It all began with dragons and lost love along the muddy river banks. Like so many other things, it was never intended to be what it became. The soothing touch of hand and tongue, the warming comfort of word and thigh. Knowing isolation does not mean being alone, and that all hearts heal when care …

Necrophilia Sestina

The ad will read: “Woman wanted; to help in discovering if male is a necrophiliac. Must be alive but not attached to remaining that way.” It will run for a week in the paper and if anyone wants me to, I will gladly pay. It’s a risky proposition, but you never know. My friend says …

Lancelot

His eyes are still talked about seventeen years after they stuck his body in a blast furnace People tell me that I have his eyes which I know, because they are dead and colored like ash I never asked to be the son of Lancelot, or to have eyes that are a reminder of him …