Wednesday, January 17, 2018


He leant across
And kissed me
It was a
Narrow space
Yet so far
He said
I’m sorry.

I wished
He hadn’t,
Hadn’t said
I’m sorry
I was glad
For the kiss
It took me back

He was in pain
Mine, he didn’t see
Mine wasn’t
His to see
I’d buried mine
Behind the veils
Within my heart

Yet with
That kiss, he
Tore the veil
Reminding me
Of other days
Infused and tinged
With wisps of hope

He said
I’m sorry
I knew, he
Didn’t want to
Hurt, how could
I tell him,
Life hurts enough

Now I have
A memory
The warmth
Of his lips
And I promise

I will dig
And bury
His kiss behind
The veils
My heart

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

This Season

This season
With nonchalant
Disregard for
Summer’s pleasure
Stalks once more
Across the
Floor boards
Of my soul

New year’s passing
Barely cold
The old returns
With strident
Insistence, suffocating
Intention and
Slicing scars
With precision

Once more
In summer’s heat
I wait the
Thawing of
Hoary fingered
Icicles clutching
Ventricles of
A wounded heart

I shut
My eyes
In case the
River Styx
Should seep
Amongst those
Who have not
Stood in its tide

But I have stood
In the River Styx
I have waited, and
Waited for
The ferryman
Listening to the
Rasping of
His oars

Each year
This season
He comes
To remind me
Of what he took
And I wait
For he will come

For me