dreams

I hold his head still
On my chest, I kiss his hair...
Skin rustles on skin.

From the hill behind
My childhood home, a lonely
Howl. Lit red eyes gleam.

How is it possible?
Last day of term, can't find class
Don't recall subject.

His smile warms me, till
Strobing alarm wakes me and
I'm alone, still smiling.

After all, this dance,
And all the sparkle, and
Archness and wit and
Companionship,

This is a warm cloak
Of a different kind, to be
Sure, and yet, it is
As comforting as a hug.

This is the village I need
To inhabit. Even
When the cold night
Presses, sometimes,
A blanket is enough.

I know this addiction cycles through
My blood, and all too soon I will want
Flowers, music, the heat of your blood.
But for now, a clink of glasses suffices.

haiku april

how to trust? -- yourself
or anyone else. Close eyes,
Jump. Fall. Hope. Believe.

all i want is the
kiss that will stop my heart and
love to restart it.

And so, I followed
Another pixie path on
the road to nowhere

Another friend, and
Who can have too many friends
In her lonely room?

Perhaps the sunlit
Way seems more passable when
You're actually here.

I, a mouse
His eyes seem to grow and grow,
Yellow like the moon overhead that reveals me.
I do not run, I
Am falling in,
Will sucked away
Desiring to stay
Curiousity growing.

Then my fellow nips my tail, hard,
Spell broken, I saunter to safety,
Remembering that I am not
A mouse,
I am a cat.

Edna St. Vincent de Millay

There are some days when nothing will do but some ESVdM. Like Dorothy Parker, she is brilliant at flattening the compulsive male ego. This has been one of my favourite poems since I first encountered it as a freshman. Oh that someday I might elevate my poor musings to this level:

I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, -- let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.

-Edna St. Vincent de Millay, 1923

april haikus

Feet on ground, head in
Mist of daydreams, memories.
Traffic flying by.

Someone was leaning
On the remote control: Snow,
Sun, rain, fog, snow, wind...

And now...

Breathe.

Proximity teases and even his warmth
Crossing the inches between us makes
Me gasp and--

Breathe.

This heat builds and builds and
Screen zombies and vampires and lightning
Are unable to pull my attention from his
Arm, hand, leg near mine
I want only to --

Breathe.

His scent makes me feral, squirm, but
I sit still, and refuse to direct this, just
Count silently and wait and

Breathe.

And when our lips touch finally
Finally
All the air
And light and heat
Explode and I can't

I can't

Breathe.