June 11, 2006

smatterings of mis-matched matchbooks
unread and burnt, candlewicks and rags of sick, clinging on spinning walls and distorted visions of mirrors and ceilings.
Somewhere along the line
she fell off and that simple one-handed grasp let go
on all her reality as it came crashing
through the ceiling with the bath tub.

Silver rings left on bedside tables and puddles in the basement
snippets and smiles and glances and scents
medley of simplistic joys;
reaching out on the porch steps, eyes closed in dreamless sleepless slumber
a cell phone rings and a car engine growls

door opens
arms close.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: