DEARLY BELOVED
 
 
He feeds her raspberries
dipped in cream.
His tongue, precise
as a diamond, traces
triangles until he
deciphers the code
that allows him to enter her
purple mood.

Her permission, more
precious than pearls,
than doves’ tears, reflects
in her eyes, and wearing
a strand of dreams, her mind
fills with warm rain and sky.
 
 
Previously published in Chantarelle’s Notebook.
 
 
TO MY STRETCHMARKS
 
 
Fossilized jellyfish tendrils.

Moon-colored veins,
chalk-scrawled tree roots,
icicle milk.

On my hips,
Nature tattoos lightning.
 
 
Previously published in Rip Rap and in Tattoosday.
 
 
DESIDERATA
 
 
You can only travel to the city of Desiderata while asleep. It doesn’t matter if you believe me. Don’t believe me. In Desiderata, tourists can’t tell the men from the women. Even by their voices. And their same eyes look out the windows of iridescent spasms of buildings. Clouds spike along the mountains like marshmallow Mohawks, and the wind pulls back the hair of the trees. You could leave if the highways weren’t strewn like lovers about the hillsides. If you go, don’t cry at the city’s famous ash sculptures of anatomical hearts. They nestle in every park, every square, in front of every grocery store and every art gallery. But don’t listen to me. Why should you. You shouldn’t. Don’t.
 
 
Previously published in Navigating Yesterday’s Rubble (Bank-Heavy Press).