I see that I am a form in space, sitting and waiting.  The red light as alive as my lungs and my kidneys. The car in front of me, the car beside me, the drivers and passengers behind their

She examined her hands meticulously like a bark beetle examines maple branches. A stone-eating politeness permeated her voice. As she spoke, the yachts in the bay, their sails folded, glittered in the sunlight– splinters in the body of an

The first night in the city I saw the sticker of a skeleton and roses on the back window of a rust orange Nova, I think, and smelled the scent of jasmine wafting through the open windows of a

Too often lately, on my nightly walk I make out a form half in shadow down the block. I’m sure that she or he waits on their dog, but closer it’s the work of dark and fog. More clearly

me, lying on the concrete, not even meeting your eyes you, sitting crossed-legged with a half-smile on your lips him, falling off the longboard and laughing for an empty ballroom me, catching the peeling smiles from his skin and

Learning to let go We are rich in last days Call it practiceHard at first to stomachOvernightsVisits from distant friendsVacationsPetsSummer campEarly onWe can carry on, cryTake weeks to recoverLater there are School, weekendsRomancesLast performances of choirs, dance troupes, playsLast days of

I learned the word broken in the middle of the night. Your back was against my chest, naked, your glasses discarded (groped for in the morning,) your ear to the bed. You were all good hearing, you heard it