Friday, June 3, 2016

Stolen Moment

I sneak away and see you
Your soft touch on my cheek
Quick kiss to the forehead
Share a glass of wine
Laugh about summer vibes
Flow as the sun into the sea
Stars ahead and above
Light our path for a short time
Press my eyelashes together
Feel the stolen moment disappear

I Can Tell

You kissed another
Lips chapped, sun kissed skin
Stomach torn off my sleeve
Pressed my tailbone and shoulder blades into the sheets
Forget our satin memories

Palms of another graced your body
It got to me, choked me
Weak minded and trusting
Her lips sank deep into my thoughts
Turned in my mind, smooth as an ocean stone

Thank you for the gentle drowning
Too much salt, sweet words
I will rise to the sun refreshed
My hands and heart no longer in tight fists
I can tell, you didn’t mean it

Butt Sex is Next

There is something in your eye
It is my finger.
I am actually poking you in the eye.
Yep, in the eye.

Why, oh why, the eye? Because you suck.
It seemed uncomfortable enough not to hurt you
Weird enough for you to remember for the rest of your life
Maybe every time you touch your face
Or blink your beautiful stupid eyes.

Other physical pain may have been more enjoyable
But I am a lover not a fighter
So let’s try butt sex next.
Only because I love you
And want you to cry a little. 

Thursday, November 19, 2015

She is Your Future

Your skin, soft as I remembered
Color of coffee with cream
Pressed my mouth against the edge of your neck
Without drawing a kiss
Eyelashes brushed your cheek
Our belt buckles clicked

Same height
Eyes align
I dropped my baggage
Hugged deeply
If March was the driest on record
November is fill with mostly rain

You looked strong, healthy
Nostalgic tears pooled in the corners of my eyes
Shoulders shrugged, slouched
I drew a box around you
Continued to hold you in my mind
Talking to you in required mental intervals

I know. She is your future.
But I am your roots.
We grew together below the ground
Deeply into each other
Pressed together like window panes
Keeping each other cool and dry


Wednesday, November 4, 2015

I meant to post this on Halloween!

Title: Witch

One is a spell
Two is a possum’s tail
Three is a burned down school
My witchcraft worked again

I bit my tongue
Then your tongue
Then the tongue of another
Blood swirled in my mouth

Delicious good news
You can trust me
I am good for your soul
Do not realize I am evil

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Light Fades from the Sky

Our time together is short 
My hands scour your body 
Rough palms from heavy labor
Feel each bend 
Each corner of your skin 

Smooth like an apple, I picked you 
I may take a quick bite  
Pull off a piece of you 
Swallow it, take it with me
But my teeth and will are weak

I run my tongue down your core 
Sweet, crisp movements 
Speed of a stroll through the park at dusk 
Our eyes never meet 
Light fades from the sky 

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Bite the Straw: Fall or Draw

Odd weather day
Heat and humidity blanket our path
Picture us, stencil lines
Curly hair makes me look youthful
Tiptoe through the turning leaves
Palms, lips, hips touch

Squinting to the sun
Eyelashes protect each tender glance
Shed our scarves and jackets
Split an iced coffee to cool our tongues
I try not to bite the straw 
But you make me nervous

Nervous you may pick me
Fall with me to the ground
Roll us in the leaves
And hold me close
Nervous you may leave me
Draw away from me off the path
Leave me with a different heartbeat
And bloodless veins

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

With Truth, Independence

We talk about our mothers
We have their smiles
Bright eyes
Affinity for whiskey
Love of angry men
Men with strong arms
Stern smiles

Our families are a mirror
Youngest girl aligns with eldest boy
Stories spun like gold
Mouths full
Our mothers call
A reminder to be true
With truth, independence

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Use You

Six am sleep erased
Help each other
Tied laces tight
Lips tighter
Run through my mind

Orgasm-pink cheeks
Blood pumps
Heart races
Fingers numb
Throat dry
Run through my mind

Use you
Shape muscles
Trim waste
Create strength
Build will
Run through my mind

Monday, August 24, 2015


Stubble brushed my neck when we embraced
Pricked my jaw, seared my skin
Little cuts on my cheeks burned like hot salty tears
When my face touched the pillows of my queen size bed
I was tangled in the sheets

The smell of you, sweet like ginger and brown sugar
Remained within the fibers of my black sweater
At the bottom of the curls of my hair
I wore pink lipstick to leave my mark on your crystal wine glasses
It worked, stained

We bumped knees and touched palms
Shared stories of our brothers and lovers
Wringing out the details of our past trysts
I won by breathing you in
You won by lying first

In the past I would have crushed you
Like the end of a hard strawberry candy
Letting your sweet, sugar center soak my tongue before swallowing
Now I am old

I feel you
Run my fingers through your hair
Adjust your collarbone
Kiss you, goodnight

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Kiss Her on the Shoulder

Young wild girls will be the death of me
A tall drink of water films each frame
Tight jeans / square glasses / skin like lattes
Love through a camera lens

Espresso with no sugar
Dream of a simple life
Girl meets girl makes her…her wife?

V-neck undershirts
Excite almond shaped eyes

Kiss her on the shoulder
Loosen crisscross arms

Watch the film again
Imagine a patient life

Young wild girls will be the death of me
A tall drink of water pours a drink at the bar

Thursday, September 20, 2012


Juicy mine.

Let me entertain you
Let me make you smile
Let me do a few tricks
Some old and then some new tricks
I'm very versatile

And if you're real good
I'll make you feel good
I want your spirits too fine

So let me entertain you
And we'll have a real good time, yes sir
We'll have a real good time

And if you're real good
I'll make you feel good
I want your spirits to climb

Let me entertain you
And we'll have a real good time

Copied from

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

The Laundry Game

When you asked to use my washing machine
I finally realized I was being used
It is a nice washing machine
It front loads.
It chimes like an early morning alarm waking me with a jolt

A jolt that feels like tripping up my apartment stairs while carrying something heavy
Like a case of bottled water or several frozen turkeys

My wrists too tired to let go
My feet have clearly given up
I tighten my abs and teeth to brace for an ungraceful landing
Tears already forming in my eyes
Instead I hit my head on pillows without pillow cases on a sheet less bed

It smells of clean laundry
I am ready to fold.
Ready to give up with each pair of black socks
Each crew neck white undershirt
Each pair of neon sport shorts

I have played the laundry game before
A light kiss to my forehead
A sweet rub to my shoulders
The entangled mess of shirt arms and pant legs now make sense
I am ready to fold.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

My Moon, My Motivator

As I tiptoe to the lake
I turn my feet into the dirt without a sound
Late night mischief in my light green eyes

There, behind the tree limbs and leaves
I see my reason for breathing during the day
My moon, my motivator

Sweet lake water I envy your reflection
Two moons eclipse my eye lashes
Drown out harsh words, heal blisters

Strong enough to glow through the clouds
Light for my evening walks
Clear space inside me to shine during the day


No, I said, What kind of bird, are you?

Monday, July 16, 2012

Her Indian Eyes

I live and die by Indian Eyes
Kisses of salt
Lick of savory cardamom
Each lash, each iris

I live and die by Indian eyes
Cigarettes on the fire escape
Legs crossed
Each pull, each exhale

I live and die by Indian eyes
Smoky eye liner
Small breath of air
Each answer, each request

NYC Dinner Across From Indigenous Eyes

In and Out of Affection

Breathing hurts my lungs as stove coils burn our dessert
He loves another
Mealtime more tired than restless legs and tasteless words

Sitting in dirty Levi’s
Hip bones and thoughts protrude from tanned skin
Bruising my thighs

Interesting to the tops of his ears with enthusiasm for sentimental moments
Learning from the other
Tears well up in my eyes and roll down my cheeks this evening

Words continue to prick my spin
Purposely forgotten nightstand earrings, now remembered
True love’s lovers have ended

Washing dishes in his sink remains the most natural
He loves another
Writhing hands try to understand the linen fabric dinner napkins

"Big Ass-ey Tassie's" 11/11

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Single File Walk Away from Cheek-to-Cheek

Metro doors open
Leave my seat next to you
Walk through the crowd
Broken escalator

Slow walk down
Blisters form on my feet
Sweat down the crest of my breast
Metro doors closing

Car without air conditioning
Crush without consequences
My spit on your cheek
Your thoughts on my mind

Picture From Metro DC

Friday, June 1, 2012

Painful Pillow Talk

My fingertips tap your sweet shoulders
Hotter than the aluminum roofs of staggering summers
I wonder who your mind and mouth will be interested in next

Who will your clock tick-tock for?
Who will your palms sweat-snap for?
Who will your heart pitter-pat for?

I sink into my cool desk chair and twirl my hair around my fingers
Vodka soaked nights, club soda removed red wine spills
Our lips touch lighter than a strapless silk cocktail dress

My palms and fingers interlock with yours
Cleaner lines than kitchen counters at five star hotels
I wonder who your mind and mouth will be interested in next

Who will your feet tap-tip for?
Who will your head think-thoughts for?
Who will your stomach spin-stop for?

We continue to suffer through painful pillow talk
Coffee filter cubicles, water ring stained wood tables
Our toes touch lighter than a flickering lighter flame

Metro Toes

The Substitute Fruit

Everyone has a grapefruit.
Oh that, tart, sweet fruit that sits on the counter alone
It always needs sugar

You always need breakfast
So you eat it…
Sour liquid and pulp fills your spoon
You swallow even though the thought of the kitchen sink is near.

Everyone has a grapefruit.

Its peel shines like the sun from behind your skinny fruit collective
Bigger isn’t always better
It always needs sugar

You try to forcefully blend it into being orange juice
So you drink it…
Pink acidic poison drowns your tonsils
It needs vodka more than your Saturday night ride on the Greyhound.

Everyone has a grapefruit.


Picture From: Eight ways to eat a grapefruit