--I STARTED A JOKE, THAT STARTED THE WHOLE WORLD LAUGHING

Osito

          for Katherine

Osito, yes,

it’s true,

you are small,

so curious,

stuck in

wide-eyed wonder

with open arms

and mitts,

but Osito,

your voice

is a strength,

is a sonnet

is a strong wind

the trees lean into

in order to

hear your story,

the one about the

woman who lost a boy,

though on some evenings,

like this one,

he still comes round,

a jangle of joy,

his ghost wearing

that familiar grin,

playing his strings,

sweet music only

the night can gather.

Skin Music

I sample

the music on

your skin,

each impression

and sonic groove

dappled in the

sweetest sweat,

the generous texture

and timber an echo

I’ve missed so much.

Your sure kiss is a

chorus on repeat,

a punched up crescendo,

hair like downy cotton falling away,

air spiced like saffron,

everything either

electric or acoustic,

what does it matter

now that we’re here?

On the other side

of your skin,

light through the window

lays lattice tracks

on your back,

your spine, the one

stuck up bone down there

waving a white

flag of surrender

that says

Enter With Caution,

but Enter please,

and Hurry.

The Night We Met Again

The night we met again,

it rained, soaked, poured,

and it was not even evening,

though it felt like it,

the rocky corners of a bruised car,

of new skin, a day

broken open by possibilities,

a first touch, a long look,

hope stuffed inside

those clouds that stared

down on us

without any questions,

a frantic race

of time,

of pulse,

of nervous ticks,

building like thunderheads themselves,

wondering what’s coming next

and why it took so long.

Requiem

Where does anything start?

Head full of rain,

empty canyon

inside a chest,

so that even echoes squelch themselves.  

Where does anything end?

Teeth chattering on a platter,

nails in the eardrums,

waiting at a bus stop with no direction home.

Where does anything (…)

Eyes plucked,

heart a strangled bird,

blood smeared on every unsent page.