a warning

a confession of the heart
is the beginning of pursuit

this i know

for i told of my love
and swore i ask nothing

except a few questions

which stalked my beloved
day and night and in dreams

i said i am content

to know that he knows
yet i cast him wondering glances

the silence is deafening

the pattering feet of my suppositions
hunted for his hidden answers

he quickened his strides

he created vast distances between us
took paths where even i would pause

there is a desert now before me

he is in an oasis somewhere
he will walk away again soon

the shadow of my revelation keeps pace

believe not when one confesses
and then denies desire for anything

hope can be merciless

spiders

there are great  spiders
tiptoeing around you
don’t you feel the silken soul-threads
weaving, hovering, enclosing.
too bad, you have let go
of her who can sense
these creatures,
who can sense me, perhaps

they are beginning to mark
their territories, staking invisible claims.
i wonder, will you have
enough time to heal
your wounded heart
before one of them jumps
and strikes.
will you feel the quivering of the web?

can you still breathe 
in the slowly tightening circles
of motivated friendships,
so carefully patterned
around you, shrine-like.
here’s mine, i haven’t even 
started yet.
i need a vantage point.

how does it feel to be prey?

the spinning of spirits

don’t you almost feel the rushing air
around us, the spinning of spirits
as they hurried to manifest this Thing
we know not yet about
even Time i think conceded to bend
and warp itself, like in movies
where its passage can be footnoted
(five months later)

almost can you feel the seeming
inevitability,  accidentally triggered 
by my impatience
and fear of impossibility
my Soul strains with my obstinate
suspension of hope
struggling with my relentless
pursuit of miracles

you only have to touch
this over-stretched heart trying
to encompass you
offering itself to be broken.

a song for you

i am still rummaging through my accumulated dreams
i am trying to find songs for you
which i can play in my head over and over

while i construct the sets where we will walk through once
and which will crumble when we’ve turned away
there’s a wild MTV going on in my mind

my voice is loud in these chopped up vignettes
and i am always beautiful, to help the suspension of belief
and you are always kind and crazy for me

and always, there will be the spellbound circle of friends
who will clap their hands and be starstruck
and who will gently shake me awake afterwards

here is your part

here is your part
read it well, rehearse.
i have no patience
for forgotten lines
or half-hearted gestures,
or untimely entrances
and exits.

see, this is how
loving me goes.

now, let us cut
to the next act.

we must keep the Story interesting.

my lipstick is fading.  wait.

stay here.  stand here.  the light flatters us here.

do not look at the audience.
they will have their turn.
it is our Story now.

just play your part.
and play it well.

a tarot reading

enough of stepping around my love
like it is a cranky old woman fallen asleep

see, the moon is grinning tonight
it is a good time to lay down our cards

we have shuffled long enough in the dark
wondering what meaning to put on our faces

let us read aloud between, beneath and around the lines
the words themselves will not matter

do you feel the Fates hanging over our shoulders?
one of them with teeth poised to cut

is there a story to unravel, a pattern to weave?
look, i have the Fool on the edge of a precipice.

your cards are face down, and your hand covers them.
will you be dealing me Death?

it begins i

it grows ii

it rages iii

it breaks iv

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