Saturday, January 10, 2015

and there's a fire

fingers a bit cold
and bellies warm with food,
she leans into me,

opens my sweater
and nuzzles my middle.
"let's be close," she says.

Saturday, January 3, 2015

we practice French in the tub

"my nails.  mes ongles."
she makes waves with her legs
"look at all my scabs."

my home

let this be my castle
let this be my fortress
let them hold me here, captive in this perfect prison forever and ever.
let this be my tomb.

Monday, December 29, 2014

aggressive

poorly fitted shoes
cold ashes over embers
expired laxatives.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

bath time

water washes through
her hair, smelting gold and
silver down her back

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

casting shadows


under the winter
sun, when noon looks like sundown,
she makes tree poses.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

ASMR

She's sweaty and warm
in my arms as we sit and
listen to street noise.

She just woke up from
a nightmare, so her little
mouth is cracked and dry.

It clicks in the most
pleasant way when she whispers,
"Kids is screamin.  Yeah."