Tread

Branded skin

Oil of the moon

I painted the sky with pieces of you.

Dazzled lips...undressed rubies.

Bones crushed beneath 

The weight of words unspoken.

Shadowed treads across the heart

Deep within the swamps of murky kisses 

Entangled in an embrace 

That left us drowning

Ripping and clawing 

Our way toward freedom

We pushed the other under the mire,

To gasp for air.

Was it worth it in the end, 

Oh my darling of sirens?

To heed the call 

Of a melody so enchanting?

In a canvas somewhere

Lay pieces of us 

Painted with the oil of the moon.

The bluest of skies.

Branded skin.

Taste

Guardian of my past and future –
My world has imploded

I watch as you bathe languidly in my destiny.

If I’m your beloved,

Caress me with whispers of a secret language

Only we two share.

Fill me with tender kisses,
Till I’m drowning in the grasp of your love –

The incandescent beauty of two becoming one.

Crawl beneath my skin and pour

The fragrance of your spirit

Into every ruptured and scarred artery

Of my soul.

Until I’ve tasted the very last drop of its fruit

And know…

You are good.

Irreplaceable

If I could take your pain and freeze it in time, 

I would journey to the ends of the earth and bury it deep beneath the final ocean wave,

Where it could never again singe your skin or drain breath from your lungs…

Steal sunlight from your eyes.

Your eyes -- I would fill them with diamonds

So your joy sparkled in the light of day

And when evening came, your starlight was a beacon for the wayward soul.

The dark of night would no longer be needed for asylum

The glare of morning could not sear your tender heart.

The truth is, you deserve far more than I could ever give.

You are prized far more than diamonds, moonlight, or daybreak.

You are the reason oceans roar, lungs gasp, hearts beat.

Without you, children would cease to laugh, feet would cease to dance…

The stars would fade from the sky.

You are irreplaceable, my friend…

You are HIS.

Shattered

Perforated lines,

Like the return portion of a bill.

Fold and rip along the tiny dots --

That is my heart, now.

I kissed you on the eyes that day -

While they were drawn closed.

It felt like warm sun rays to my air conditioned soul.

I poured out all the love I had left

In that one kiss.

Feeling as small as a child, 

Awkwardly overfilling a

Cup of lemonade.

It still wasn’t enough,

To make you laugh.

To make me change.

To save us from this.

I poured,

You drank.

You drank.

I poured...

Until my hands began to weaken

From the weight of the glass.

And the pitcher 

Fell to the floor...

Shattered.

“Watch out!”

You yelled, 

Hurriedly trying to tidy my mess.

Ignoring your heed, I jumped headlong toward you,

Hanging onto the cuffs of your pants.

Baring my feet to the shards beneath them.

Bleeding, I felt your arms sweep down to save me.

Ready to carry me to safety.

A dance, we knew by heart.

I jump,

You save.

You save,

I jump...

But today

It isn’t enough.

To make me safe.

To make you change.

To deliver us from this. 

Your arms begin to shake 

From the weight of anchors 

Tied to my soles.

And finally,

I fall. 

To the floor...

Shattered. 

Flatlined

Flatlined.

That’s what we are

No initiation on either of our parts 

To revive or extinguish

To enkindle or deaden

No movement

Up or down

Toward or away from the other.

Instead,

We’ve chosen stasis...

Denial.

Too afraid that if we bend to touch the other's heart

The uncomfortable shock of 

Chaos will ensue.

Yet, if I'm forced between chaos and this mental torpor with you,

I must choose chaos.

Zero Scaping of the Heart

My heartbeat quickened with the noise of curses spinning in my head

Wanting nothing more than to purge these thoughts and you from my mind.

Instead I stay quiet and quickly feel tears burn my eyes.

Eyes that you once said created the most beautiful color of green 

When stained by those liquid marks of grief.

Is any part of me beautiful to you anymore?

Gutted and bare I lay before you,

Knowing I am not enough 

And realizing perhaps I never will be.

Accents of empty promises and self delusion decorate our happy home.

As long as the exterior is painted nicely

With flower beds and white picket fences,

Creating the perfect veneer for the debris inside,

No one will ever be the wiser, will they?

Especially not us.

Like monkeys in cages, 

We were so accustomed to the stench and mess

That neither one of us could smell or rid our humble abode of this fetor...

Until now...

The smell is apparent and abhorrent.

And we both finally acknowledge it.

Can this be saved?

Or is there now so much destruction, 

The only choice left is tearing it to the ground?

Flight of the Aspen: A Sequel to "The Aspen"

Breathe me in. 

Take me to our secret place, where pain evades us. Where love is paramount.

The golden shimmer of the aspen call to my soul.

They comfort me at the height of this place and seem to sing a melody of triumph to one another.

I reach out and catch a fallen note, holding it close to my chest, pushing it deep inside -- a key, for a time when I will need it most.

For a day when I will no longer hear the music. --The Aspen September, 2011


Is it time to say goodbye

When every right turn leads left?

When every dance becomes an unsyncopated nightmare?

When the rhythm has left your feet and the music has left your lungs?

My hands tremble at the thought of this new journey before me.

Not knowing if I’m running or becoming...

Something new.

I want to explore the unchartered territory within my veins.

But how do I know if I’m running toward my next adventure or simply escaping?

In my cocoon of hibernation I hear a faint but familiar sound outside.

Within moments, I feel my heart quickening.

I look down to find a diode of red, radiating from my chest.

As I reach to examine the foreign emission,

It unexpectedly bursts into a rainbow of the most brilliant colors, I’d ever witnessed -

Shades of vibrancy my eyes had never beheld.

The key! I shriek, remembering a long forgotten promise the mountains had made me.  

I scratch the surface of my skin to find the light.

With a gentle tug, attached to a ribbon, emerges a wooden key, about three inches in length and warm to the touch. 

At first glance, it resembles a key that might open the antique door of an historic home.

Yet, as I look again, golden leaves begin to sprout from the key’s bow.

I know I must move quickly before the key is enshrouded by leaves and bark--

And my chance for a new beginning is overgrown...misshapen...gone. 

If the time for the key is now, there must be a keyhole somewhere close, I reason. 

At the top of my entrapment, I see a tiny pinhole of light.

That must be it!

My fingers and the key make their way toward the only light I can see. I fumble awkwardly, as a child trying to force a square peg into a round hole. 

Twigs from the bow are growing longer and time is growing shorter for me. 

It is simply a matter of time before I will be holding a small tree, instead of the key to my freedom.

Praying, I make one last thrust at the hole above me. It slides into something. I think I found it! A perfect fit! 

My heart is pounding and I am sweating profusely as I can only guess what is waiting for me beyond this safely spun prison I had created for myself.

Taking a deep breath, I turn the latch; without warning, my cocoon breaks into a million pieces, and I am left alone... in the wilderness. The refrain is louder in this space, and with a smile, I finally recall its source...  (to be continued)