Honey Amber Cloud

If unending honey poured over my head,

Smoothed down my hair,

Flowed over the bow of my lips,

And made of me a relic in amber;

It were hardly more soothing

Or blindly caressing

Or impetuously present

(Forbid me to move!)

Than this golden cloudscape,

This peaceful floating

Of you

And I.

Leveling Up

we are leveling up;
the you and me
morphing into a we,
an us that slips into our speech
unexpectedly.
the girlfriend and boyfriend
we've been tossing around
have set down on the ground,
and the future
that looked like tomorrow
is actually quite further off
and farther
along.

what to do what to do

boston is getting a bleaching,
the color leeching
out, puddling
around my shoes.

Despair Is Premature,

he said gingerly.

What Game?

I guess I'll leave it here,

This discontented thought-wracked day.

Nothing has changed, but I am tired.

There is some game going on and

I don't understand how to win.

I've spent the day in determined panic, 

My arms braced for impact.

I am tired of remembering to

Hold you at arm's length. 

I Pick Myself Up

I do not belong here,

On this shelf with your other toys.

I pick myself up, dust myself off.

Work the paralyzing hope out of my joints.

I clambor down, clumsy first, then flying.

If you want me, you can call.

If I can hear you I will answer

Because I love you.

But I am running now,

By tonight, who knows where I'll be.

Fine Lines

There is only
a very fine line
between
a doormat and
a waiting girl.

Cyn McCurry - Casting