There's a story in the rain soaked pavement
Reaching ahead of me
Unfolding in my immediate future while I linger somewhere in my already past
I see my reflection merge with your reflection
For a moment neither the sun, the stars, or the moon can eclipse our union with their light
Somehow we found each other in the darkness
I first learned the taste of your soul in the utter absence of any but your light
It's fitting that those far flung celestial engines flicker out in our presence
Even the heavens know they could never compete

Storm Chaser

You are a tempest
Harsh words break the conventions of social contracts
Otherwise placid evenings erupt with the sudden fury of a tidal wave
Bearing down on our unsuspecting still life
How many times I have been caught in the crosshairs of your friendly fire
How you are the hush of fresh snow
A quiet enchantment of otherwise mundane things
Imbuing nothing less than practical magic in the simple ritual of morning coffee
You are meadows and minefields
The atomic bomb, but also, the Cana flower
Sometimes I can't tell if it's snowflakes on my eyelashes or ash
All I know is that I don't care
Because for me there is no life beyond your tightrope
I am thoroughly irrevocably blissfully steeped in the doctrine of you
And how I have come to revere as holy observance the sound of my name on your lips


I want to speak freely

Giving sound to thought otherwise trapped


Every time I speak the distance between mind and mouth sharpens my words into weapons 

And you are wounded and I’m not sure how to help

I promise you that’s not how it sounded in my head

Those weren’t the words I felt in my heart 


Ballistic missiles fly from my lips, detonate in your smile


I’m sorry 

What I wouldn’t give to not be sorry anymore

But there’s a mean I can’t explain

Hijacking our moments 

Coloring our memories  

Hardening your eyes 

And goddamnit I wish I had a reason why 

But, I only get the words right when I write them 

And unfortunately, I’m perpetually lacking a pen



I searched for you in the deepest parts of myself
because somehow I have always known you Always loved you
I found you elsewhere drifting peacefully in a dream world of your own creation
I realized then, just how beautiful a human soul could be
You are familIar but also every language I’ve never learned
Innate but contrary
You are my everything beautiful and always home
The heart whose rhythm matches mine


I always meant to keep a journal
Then I met you
We got so busy living
Writing it all down got lost along the way
I panic the world is spinning so damn fast
Forget your golden constellation irises
I hold you
How could I not
Solace, in my infinitude of kisses written on your skin


If the world was ice

Each a stilled moment

Static in a world gone grey for lack of change

Or instead the world was fire

Each a fading tendril of smoke

Ashen in a world reduced to cinder

Still, I would find a way to you


The memory of however you might have been

Because, even in blackness beyond dark


Are vivid


I always start my poems with grand ideas

Condensed down into single words

So full

They can ONLY be understood in abstraction

The heavy lifting of MY human existence

Outsourced in pursuit of transcendent literary greatness


I’m just an impetuous girl from New Jersey

Damn near three decades in and sometimes, the person I undress at the end of the day is not the one I dressed at its start

I have no idea what I’m capable of, or what I’m not… or even who I’m going to be two weeks from now

This poem

Was supposed to start with


How you need more of it


How I just don’t seem to have enough to undo what you spent a lifetime learning

It was supposed to prove that taking the next 50 years on faith is as easy as breathing


It isn’t is it….

It’s the rest of forever as far as we’re concerned

The entirety of our human experience signed, sealed and delivered

It’s the end of our youth

And that.. just… doesn’t seem fair

I’m in no rush to get to the end of our story

I know I don’t wanna glue anyone else’s dentures in


I want those dentures to be as far away and abstract as the words I use to start my poems

You’ve already taught me more about who I am and what I’m capable of in three years than I was able to figure out on my own in the preceding 24

And I want to spend the rest of my days exploring your depths because I have never in my life met someone so utterly captivating

This poem hasn’t gone where I expected, but then neither has my life so far… or yours

Somehow all those twists and turns and tears and tribulations

All those decisions large and small

Lead us to be standing in front of each other, that night, several years removed from this moment where our story began

This poem came into being as an explanation of the relativity of time

How three years CAN measure up to fifty and inform your choices about forever

I realize, though, that it was NEVER about grand ideas like time or even relativity

It was about an impetuous girl from New Jersey who fell in love with a quiet boy from Brooklyn

How she loved him so much that, perhaps selfishly, she wanted to claim him for all the rest of forever

That the magnitude of love she felt for him made her want, for the first time, to share that love with a being of our own creation


It’s about how a quiet boy from Brooklyn taught an impetuous girl from New Jersey that in the universe of moments that are the rest of our forever time -, as a linear pressure cooker of frantic expectation, – doesn’t exist

We set the pacing of our story and before we get old together we should be young together first



All the words you should have said
A fingertips breath from asylum
Yet, quiet
Obscenity silence luxuriating in wanton void
And I am here feeling without you
I hate your impetuous immaturity
I love your soul in soft moments
Ever the game with no rules
Building my Eden and salting my earth
Must you break me beautifully
Can you impose such exile
If you must, hurt me
Do so completely
Leave nothing left to ache
But, to forget me
Cruelty beyond measure
Equal and opposite
To the heaven I taste at your side


Softly you go
Lacking the grandeur of your coming
Summer thunder washed away with dawn of fall
Words formerly so sweet have found their bitter
Once again, somehow, you are only other
Relegated to lands beyond my knowing
Tenuous the bridge from one into the other
Bisected, now
Boundaries that should perhaps have always stood
Barren lands of one time possible expand in all directions
And I,
For all my words
For all my thoughts
For all my moments stolen from love
No longer want you
Perhaps never did
More than lust for the otherness of your same

I Love You

I love you meets silence and there are no survivors
Reconsideration of thought expressed
Questioning of continued intent for eternity
I can say it only so many times
The sound heard once too often fades to nothing
Emotion dissipates
Remnants of what should always have been like too many already scars
This body
Scarred by wars beyond remembering
Little girls and other lives and all the alcohol that blinds
My heart is more scar than tissue
That’s why my words lack the resonance to elicit feeling

Sunday Solemnity

I sit with my back to you
Swallowed by the silence of what I don’t know how to say
Silenced by the enormity of fear I am totally inadequate to explain
I love you
But, sometimes
I hate you
Not really but there are moments of overwhelming terrified rage
I cannot contain the sensation that we’re sinking
Collapsing into the perpetual sloth of our own laziness
Was I always this way
Is this you
How will we ever grow when so many hours have passed
Sitting, laying
Existing but not living
I don’t know how to motivate you
Or, myself
I don’t know how to change myself
Or, you
Whether it is even worthwhile to try
Is it possible that this is life
Slowly too quickly slipping away
Never before have I so keenly noticed the hours
How very terribly few there seem to be