The last window

Kitty no longer stood on the practice field, but in a large, empty room.  Its walls made of a material resembling dark blue blocks of cement, it boasted a ceiling so high that Kitty had to crane her neck to see it.  With no embellishments to speak of--even the windows were only narrow slits--the room had obviously been designed not for beauty so much as for protection.  This was, after all, the site of the Last Window.

Opening Up

I was one fear closer to here

lost in a night too dark for sleeping

was it me on the ledge            or was it you

whispering

                                                                                              

                        do not give up too soon

do not give up

too soon          

                                                                                                                                   

when I am breaking   

I am a fool

where do I stand

I am a piece of stone mixed in

with all this sand

                                               

yet full of proof

of what died   with you

                       

            why did you bring me here to my cyclone second

when rage engulfs this bridge from earth to heaven              

cinder through and through   

                                                                                                                               

you ask too much                    you do

                                               

for one whisper like the hint of water splashed on embers

for one storybook of dreams with its message tethered 

to the fading metal moon    

the sun  it can  be cruel

now that I gave too much                   too soon                                                                     

                                                           

                                    Is this your plan         

           

is this your one           

your great       

your smoky last demand        

or

my intention

my blue-flame doom

because

burned across my heart your forgotten message

the language lost in time with the words rewritten

resuscitate the girl she is out of breathing

collapsed under the hope she could not believe in

the soot was in her eyes she could only cry

was this my one great truth

did I give up

            too soon?

Waking up

I woke up just as my foot hit the grass.  I felt around next to me, but the dog who smelled like cake had gone.  In fact, I was no longer in the woods, but in a room. My hand flew to my back: the fairy wings had disappeared.  Now I could only hope that the pain would, too.

                

                

Blindsided

Just around the corner,

you can be singing,

staring at the clouds forming,

or at the ants running.

            And then you will see nothing else.

            You will wonder why you never saw it

            coming.

Beloved

Some kind of cradle holds 

you now

I had to let you slip from

my arms

but not forever

not forever

Courage

     The dog who smelled like cake shuffled out from behind an overgrown bush.  “Are you real?” I asked her.  “Or are you going to disappear, too?”
     She cocked her head and bared crooked teeth at me, as if to say, does it matter?
     I dropped down to the ground next to her.  When I wrapped my arms around my knees and began to cry, she butted her head against me until I laid a hand on her back.  The sun was hot on my neck.  “You won’t be safe here,” I scolded her.  “You should go back into the woods, where’s it cooler.”
     But she wouldn’t move. 
     Tiredly I leaned back against the damp, cold ground.  When I closed my eyes I heard some more snuffling, and then felt her fuzzy head against the palm of my hand.  We will be safe tonight, I thought to myself.  Tomorrow was anybody’s guess.   Absolute safety would never be mine to have.  It simply didn’t exist. 

The way through

Where is                                  here I am        

gone home without you

when I would rocket from the world

out of an ocean so impossibly asleep                                     

is the rain your final call

because I am wondering what this was for

           

why you ever loved me

why you do not anymore

there is no witness here

only ghosts of words that nudged into breath 

the shape of a fool      shivering and wet       

your blanket thrown over the bed one cold night too late

 my eyes, heavy with dreams 

but you—                  

very much awake

how I welcomed the chance to be wrong

to never ask why you had to leave

why you had to come at all

was it to drift away from this eroding shore

or was it

                                    not wanting to be sorry

not wanting to be felt sorry for 

one last secret for memory to keep

Now our half-truths ship out

under cover of a cloud-filled sky

the sun you once spoke of

never any friend of mine

                                   

can you feel it rain

can you?