You were brisk with your walking Ignoring Oregon, and all unsaid Before the goodbye I fell behind admiring a slug Knelt to let it crawl across my palm I imagined your toys Dusty, in our attic of ancient things
Your next hike was without me For my stomach was slurring with slugs Alone, I lay in the van And felt the slime inside me I should’ve asked you to stay
Remember when we freed photos from magazines? And taped model faces to the van walls It was our renovation, decorations When you could drive we’d live in here
If I begged you to stay We could play pretend Be vagabonds All we’d need to know is the road We’d empty out the college textbooks And use your bag as a boat Floating forever On the sea that sank time
What if we held a scrap of the fabric of the world And put it to our face to feel it’s ragged softness I saw you standing in the library Leafing through To The Lighthouse I could’ve kissed you there Ripped the pages from your spine We could’ve killed each other Changed each other I’d wash your coffee stains off my sheet But you put the book back and walked away Now my hands are empty Nothing to have or hold But that’s just as well For what would I do without this wanting?
The sky! The sky! Morning orange kisses the earth It is beautiful for it is something The other nothings and I admire the sunrise
I've built a house in my mind With all the sensory details that comfort me Mold growing in a garden on its walls Painting peeling off to spiral softly down Tuck me in beneath the floorboards Where the world will not touch me Sip your tea and hear my heartbeat
There once was a brother and sister whose mother was the most beautiful witch. She tied flowers into the sister’s hair and taught them to make potions. Though the brother did not believe in magic he enjoyed the smell of herbs and watching the cauldron bubble. Their mother was taken before her time, and they always wondered what a kind woman had done to deserve such an illness.
Jon walked home from the grocery store, the brown paper bag heavy in his frail hands. He hardly went out anymore. When he did he studied the empty houses on his street, a ghost of the friendly neighborhood he had known as a young man.
Jon put the cucumber in the fridge and wondered if it too would grow rotten with neglect. He settled into his recliner and turned on the tv. A game show, mute because the sound made his head hurt. A family was jumping around, hugging each other, they must have won something.