Cocktail Hour

I know you are in
your vanity gazing back
your perfect carelessness
tossing that hat on your head
you head down
stairs to the line
of bars
waiting.

the girls that love you
wait. you don’t know
the spell you cast

It’s cocktail hour
you are sipping dirty
martinis. you hate olives.
I love them.
what we have is not
the same, it’s not different.

it’s cocktail hour.
the bars are open.
with every sip that slips
through your lips
my bars open, too.

it’s cocktail hour.
your hat is sliding to
your left, my right,
I think I can catch you.
I can’t. it’s your gravity.
I can’t break your heart
or my boundaries.

five drinks and I can feel
your smile grows
gleaming, streaming
straight vodka

it’s cocktail hour
we are stumbling up
stairs to your Third floor
Fifth Street apartment.
Inside.
You take my hand
guiding me to your bed
room where we fall
under the sheets.

you smile.
we kiss.

I disappear in the sun
before you can see
I love you.

Intimate Strangers

I always knew you.
You knew.
A thousand thank yous
Have been drowned
In my thoughts. Shoved under my
Pillow on many sleepless nights

I have held fuck yous tight
Between my teeth and thighs
Fearing always of
Giving up
too much too soon.

I have never been one to hold my words.
Lately, I have been having trouble getting them out.

I am finding them, hidden beneath
Two years of guilt and confusion. 

Cupcake

I hold them between my fingers
With a stare meant only for the pitiful and disgusting
Making a gymnast of my stomach.
Sometimes, I eat it.
Sometimes, I don’t.
I regret either choice.

I have heard people say
That cupcakes are better than sex.

From what I know about cupcakes and sex;
I have never eaten
Five cupcakes and said,
“Ohmygod. I think I’m floating.”

But, last week I ate a half a cupcake with
Five tiny dicks on it.
I told the bachelorette “Congratulations!
You just got a dyke to put five dicks in her mouth.”

I will never enjoy a cupcake again,
Because I know
That the sugar in cupcakes can lead to
Diabetes
Obesity
And heart disease.
It’s the silent killer
Feeding cancer cells
And starving the mind.

But, the sweetness of sex increases
Dopamine
Oxytocin and
Immunity.
Reducing the risk of heart disease.
the truest clean eating diet you’ll find.

But, maybe you’re going to fuck your Cupcake.

First, you’ll scrape off the pink frosting
Before it stains your sheets.
Pull off her paper dress
And lament what is left underneath

An unadorned muffin,
Grabbed in a hurry when the lights were off.
It was too early for breakfast. It definitely
Will not hold
Your appetite. Immediately after,
You’re already thinking of your next opportunity to eat alone.

Some things just stick with us longer.
Like the sweet sugar she left on my lips last night
And the sweet cream I can still taste on the tips
Of my fingers. The glaze over my body from
The heat we were cooking with.

Kintsukuroi

The potter’s hands are rough from the clay.
Penetrate the ball, and throw it
Pulling up
Little by little
The bottom becomes the top.

In the beginning it was mud
Murky and drunk on the idea of love

The base spins, and we created
Through the motion of time
With soft hands, hardened by clay.

We dipped our thirsty hands in the
Water we kept beside us.
Kicking our wheel to keep time alive.
When it is finished
We carefully cut it free.
Smooth out all the edges,
And sit it in a corner until it is dry.

We stir the glaze with heaving hearts.
Add color to make it beautiful again.
Then we burn it.
Two thousand degrees to finished.

For a time, we admire its beauty as it sits
Undisturbed for a hundred years.
Time of destruction is different than the time of creation.

Our carefully crafted love pot
Will indeed crack
Sometimes shatter.

We fill those cracks with gold.
Because we know,
Those cracks are evidence of life.
And life, is meant to be adorned.

When it looked like it was finished
We called it our masterpiece.
We set it aside
When it was dry we set it on fire
To make it permanent

We painted it black and blue
Filled it with fear. And it cracked in the cold
Of who we became.

Some things aren’t meant to be contained

The pieces, if balanced perfectly,
Still fit together on the shelf
And anyone who entered,
Could see the black and blue,
But the fear was still inside.

When the ground shook,
It all spilled out

We picked up the pieces
Daily and still we balanced

Until the last time I
Slammed the door shut.

And all the fear came spilling out.
Dusted on the floor with the jagged pieces on top.

You threw it in a closet.

Where it could be lost
And kept it as a memory of the
Love it once wanted to be.

I went searching for gold.
And you, were learning how to make jewelry

Artists never commit to one medium.
You decorated your life
With tiny prizes and pieces
Of her.

I sifted through rivers,
Collecting the sun’s shiny
In the corners of my eyes
So that when I would finally sleep,
I could dream of brighter days
On the other side of the river I was crossing.

Shit Strangers Say

When a stranger says,
How have you guys been?
I haven’t seen you here in a while.

The heat that rises from within
Is too much for me to stand.
I move away from her,
So she doesn’t get burned.

I am not who she thinks I am
This woman, behind the coffee shop counter
I do not know her,
never seen her before

I’m counting my breaths
For the months that we were apart.

My skin has become my own little hell
My blonde hair is my biggest burden
My stylist says it’s a state of mind
It has become the reminder that
someone else stood where I once stood
And where I am again

Anger, guilt and shame are the
war paint on my face.
I am grateful red is not my color
Although my cheeks would disagree

The sinew of my locked jaw
Reminds me that scar tissue has no nerve endings
That the pain is underneath, and this
Marks the time that has passed.

And when my breath returns,
I look back at her.
And realize she had been with me the whole time.

Hunger Pains

My knees gave way to the heat of our last fight
This time it was different
No screaming, no punching, just
Skin separating from my chicken bones
I tried to hold the pressure under the lid

Asked her if she still loved me.
Yeah
One word escaped as steam through the pressure

I need you to leave
I will call you

On my knees, I begged her to let me live

I drove home
Delusional from the hunger
pains, thinking
That I was her girlfriend.