All Library locations will be closed Monday, June 19th for the Juneteenth holiday.
In all her many years, the woman did not think she ever witnessed anything as ugly as rain. It wasn’t just the way it stuck to the ground, leaving muddy piles all over the city, littering the sidewalks with grime and built-up trash.
You waltz by
Zipping through my stratosphere
Leaving almost tangible trails
Streams of fog and particles of water
Falling slowly down to my earth
You come in and out of orbit
Following a reckless collision course
Sometimes I could reach out and touch you
The second time I got married was the happiest day of my life. It was illegitimate and secretive. It was born of utter foolishness, but the joy that filled my heart that day was unrivaled by anything done before the eyes of the familiar.
I vividly remember
the rough feel of my closet’s carpeting beneath my fingers
as they traced lines and circles and stars
like the ones that filled the sky that night.
As I pass through an unmarked apartment building,
I observe a woman’s relationship with a stray cat.
Obscured by the shadows of happy hour light,
the dirt that has accumulated on the floor’s grout still shines,
My lover is strong for a reason.
I was teasing her neck and giggled when she flipped me
hit flat on my back, seeing stars in broad daylight on the lawn
of the private school she would get kicked out of.
A STORY IN THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE LOVE INTEREST
the director says start, and you come to life like an automaton. a blink, and
she rocks on a satin sea
her crossbow jawline aimed upward
trained on the sun.
she shoots, trying to make
the sun sink to her,
make it fall
in love with her.
there’s a galaxy, all ink and stars, that spins below your collarbone,
and i can’t help but wonder who drew it:
did they see you as i see you? did they mean it to remind me
of the truth that other hands have gone where mine just dream they’ve been?
she could’ve found
anyone, I know, the boys
who promised her better in the
beginning would be
baffled if they
knew because she
anyone (she chose me)
It wasn’t until I
could feel the wind
kissing my hand,
arm hanging out of
your old rusty van
that I realized that
I have a purpose
even if that purpose is purely
letting other people know
a little air is all you need
how everything had a name in the tender white light
fracturing over our pliant limbs, tangled
against car seats saturated with smoke,
silence calcifying in the negative space of our ribs.
She fell on top of me, burrowed her face in my fluff, hands smacking the down inside of me, legs kicking, wriggling, growing restless at the foot. Every night I gave her comfort, she told me her secrets, whispered in the meekest of voices of the taunts and the teases and the tortures of the day.
I read about you
in my horoscopes and in a relatable tweet last week
as soon as I saw you, I knew those were written about you
When you asked me who I thought you were and I didn’t have an answer, I was worried. Why does my brain not instantly generate poetry when I think about how beautiful you are? Now that I have an answer I am terrified.
I miss running down the street with you at half past 3
When your dad dropped you off after softball practice on Sunday afternoons.
And there was never anything more than grass stains on white pants and empty soda cans that my mom told me to throw away two hours ago.
You ask me If I know the way back home from here. I sing the words, “yes, dear” back to you like I’m someone else. You say “alright” because you’ve got nothing else to say right now; I respect that. I keep my eyes on the road. I’m not quite sure where you’re looking at this point
why do i allow myself to participate in something as dangerously stupid as Love?
allow myself to participate
as if i don’t
put myself up to bat
in a room full of automatic pitch machines
I wake before you and in the darkness,
I don’t recognize you right away.
Your lashes bring their own light,
full like fields of crows,
a murder of crows. The birds nested
on the hill I’m sure I’ve told you about
in front of the tomb, white stones holding
This is the pretend-dream,
where I am teaching you to swim,
and your body and my body
remember their names in the water.
We pull them from the lake
where they’ve been drowning,
covered in salt, covered in
sweat and horsetails.
Regretful murder suicides
Or better yet, just suicides.
Acting as if you knew all about it,
You’re helping a lot,
Really, you’re not.
O, furry friend with aerial ears
Short in memory, but long in years
You hop, you stretch, you yawn, you drink
But as I can guess, you do not think
What passes through your fuzzy head?
You eat, you run, you go to bed
What lessons do you possibly affect
Immovably unquiet and forever
Is the moon’s perch in the sky.
Sitting in a blanket of mismatched stars
Is the place children go for a sweet midnight dream.