When I think of you, you’re happy. You crack a smile mid-thought during a red light on a summer day. You sigh and stretch your arms back with a big exhalation at the end. Maybe your toe taps to that one song with the guitar and the chorus we know by heart. I’ll hear you singing off key and we laugh because of the joy it brings us. Maybe you’re not moving, maybe you’re just waking up, sleepy and cheerful. You’re holding a cup of coffee while leaning against the sink, that golden gorgeous morning light bathing you. When I think of you I hope you’ve found your sunshine. I hope it’s as good as you knowing I’m happy, too.
The night comes early
ushered in by softened light
Autumn has arrived
— • — • — • —
My bedside lamp glows
in bright pink light, soft with sex
Feminine on me
— • — • — • —
I want you here, now
Setting molecules ablaze
Explosive with lust
— • — • — • —
Sing me your love thoughts
Hold my hands, wind up my hair
Kiss me up my spine
— • — • — • —
Lips writing love notes
One kiss, I love you more
Two kisses, divine
— • — • — • —
Your eyes kiss my own
Your being lives within me
Our hearts are never alone
— • — • — • —
My Lover, my own
I am one thousand lit stars
glittering with you
— • — • — • —
A pink, faceless torso drives my car around the board between Paydays and mandatory stop signs it skates with and around other cars filled with more faceless torso’s, casually plunked like pegs into tiny holes filling game pieces and we use them to count our pace with the click click click of soft plastic against cardboard, we slap wax-papered cards down with each “achievement” knowing it’s not real, none of it is, not even a little bit, but here comes another draw of the deck and here we are, owning homes, adding more blue and pink pegs we muster our luck, we push through the hardships, we get to the eventual end having said “I suppose it was what it was” and surrender it all back to the board, again
The man at the bank
asks me if I’m ready
(about thirty times)
to commit to pay for bricks and pipes
a patio door that creaks when opened
trees keeping secrets I do not know
walls that will be freshly painted
neighbors who befriend
neighbors who spy
for exactly thirty years
Then came signing
the repetitive letters
making up my legal name
It came full stop
at the sight of my legal name —
plus
comma, AN UNMARRIED WOMAN
As if this home
will be only half full
despite having paid for it
with all that I own
