Us.

Light splays.
On her skin it plays.
Curtain-diffused and rainbow-stained
inside the warmth, outside the rain.

Time stalls.
Halting all in all.
Edges curl like a photograph
I trace her curves, she starts to laugh.

Trees sigh.
For our ears they vie.
The forest rustles, leaves shake free
deaf to all, asleep in our tree.

Where then?
Does she start, I end?
The same place, if one could measure
where the present meets the future.

Werewolf

How must the werewolf feel
as the full moon approaches
to know that his transition comes
and feel powerless to stop it
and maybe also welcome it
and maybe also with the realization

that it was inside him all the time
his fingernails don’t turn to claws,
they just lengthen
his hair doesn’t turn into fur
it just grows
his teeth don’t turn into fangs
they narrow and sharpen

How must I feel
six days without drinking
to know that I won’t make it seven
and feel powerless to stop it
and maybe also welcome it
and maybe also with the realization

that it was inside me all the time
my anger doesn’t turn to hate
it just lengthens
my smile doesn’t turn to a grimace
it just grows
my sadness doesn’t turn to sorrow
it narrows and sharpens

We both know it’s inevitable
but god how we fear it
and maybe we both long for
the same thing

our own silver bullet

No man is an island

 

They say that no man is an island.

But that message

arrives in a bottle

run aground in the sand.

 

They say that no man is an island

But I’ve searched

the four points of my compass

And not had to speak or smile.

 

They say that no man is an island

But when the sun

sinks into the ocean

All that stirs is me.

And the fire, but fire

isn’t good company.