Archive for the ‘Aubade’ Category

Snow Angel

She became alone
in order to get
Time to discover
why it was
she felt so alone.
even when she wasn’t.
Attached like a starfish
to her bed.
Attached like color
to her sheets.
Sheets that oscillated
between a second skin
and fire.
Fire to be removed
until the cold
of her basement room
crept back onto her
like a Swan.
So she would kick
them away if needed
and pull them close
when needed.
So she would kick
him away
and call him back
when needed.

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begging for it all to give

Her mind alive without her
a twin                                                                            a twin
here at the cafe

lying in his bed
hands full of cotton sheets.
Her body warm but tight

fumbling over a tea cup
nervous fingers
bring the heat
to her lips.

Cries of pleasure
call him forward
to the rocks

She leans into
coy questions
placing him
between bangs

He cups her neck
and pulls her forward
she has won

He rises
without provocation
dropping money
onto the table.
So he goes.                                                                              But he goes.

She begs him to stay

She begs him to stay.

She is left

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There are words caught on my tongue
and my arms are getting weak.
My stomach is coming undone
and my brain has sprung a leak.
Fingers pluck a bass like jazz
improving notes like rain
on her ivory skin, and at last,
I can’t complain. I can’t complain.
Eight days a week, it’s all the same
until, with luck, you lose
yourself, your pride. You lose the game
of give to receive, sacrifice to chose,
leave to draw love, love to please.
In her skin she hides, waiting for me
to reveal myself. Surprise! I never was
before your eyes saw me. See?
There was no finding me, it was finding us.
Its time to heal, with every string
I pluck, and you sing Catullus,
With some luck and a thousand kisses
we’ll steal from fate this crazy thing
we thought we’d get alone.
We are going to find our way home.

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“Good morning”
a voice still scarred
by prides defeat.
“I spent last night drinking
reason retreats
when you succumb to yourself.

The phone is silent
not knowing
why after two years
I have emerged
from an empty glass
to wake my Sleeping Beauty –
a kiss at last.

I feel the receiver blushing
when I tell it that
every time I drink this much
I think of you.
“At the bottom of every retreat
of every war
with one’s self
or with the other
there is a woman.”

What do you dream of
Sleeping Beauty,
without this world
to give you reasons
to escape? What do
you do with your nightmares
other than wait
by a phone
for them to call you
two years too late?

I pass out, with you still there
and somehow for some reason
you don’t disappear.
You add a long distance charge
to your list of worries
just so you can sleep next to me breathing,

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Cait, Wait.

Please, before you go away
Stay, until you can no more.
Ignore whatever I say
Allay your fears and just stay.

I hate your fears
They’re too real sustain
Obtain from me what you must
Then just smile, and remain.

You fit me in your hand
An ocean in your eyes,
the size of a Milky Way –
never mind all my lies.

Tomorrow what will you have left?
Theft of a man too sane to be right.
Bright stars shed no light next to you
Do what you must do tomorrow night
But stay tonight.

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Modernity means silent clocks
more often than not, cell phones.
More is in store.
Time is of the essence. I am alone
Without ticks or tocks
Just a cell phone or two.

Green light means green eyes.
I hold the phone close to my face.
Still before four.
One eye stays shut just in case
A useless exercise.
It closes, my eyes are blue.

Oh but her body, oh but her skin
was so soft and serene at night.
explore her core
and find that you were right
to say her beauty was within
a soul far bigger than five foot two.

But she couldn’t stand sleeping alone.
Without a body, without my heat
too poor to adore
An immeasurable heart beat
was not enough to keep her home.
She did things I thought she would never do.

My sister complains about her lazy man.
Lucky bastard I say.
Snores and snores
from dusk until day.
He sleeps through her demands.
She should think herself lucky too.

I have realized too late what a woman needs
too late at night, too late in life.
without sleep or wife.
The only two things that I need:
“Good night” and “I love you”.

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A million morning moments
call me to bed each night
for how could I awake
next to the warmth
of your belly big with child?

If I never came back
How could I discover dreams
are ment to enhance reality
rather than betray or perplex?

Without first learning the allure
of two ice cold feet searching
under a covered world for heat-
A voyage I once loathed –
How could I come to embrace
you – even in your coldest moments.

Yet I resist closing my eyes
and reutrning to rest
until a  reluctant kiss I pry
from the woman who makes
me want to wake myself each day
but whose tranquilty
lulls me to sleep each night.

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