The day started
with an explosion
of sunlight through
sheer curtains followed
by the calls of fluttering
birds the bed is warm
next to you you still
asleep like an old dog
you’re torso peeking
from beneath the
comforter teasing
me like a dog and
the sunlight now
drips into your
like a

Horses (for M2)

I’ve dreamed
of this many
men chasing
me but few taking|
me down its been
forever since I’ve had
brunettes, shaved and
blond haired boys
chasing me but they’re all
stunning in their
own way like horses
in a paddock their
manes brown trimmed
and blond blow in the
wind as they gallop
so much like these
many men
of which
I’ve dreamed


hang on my fingers
like laundry
they stop short like an
admission of guilt
even metaphors are
bland like heavily milked
coffee words a poet’s tools
are now dull with overuse
unsharppened they hack
at the page haphazardly
like machete wielding guides
in a rainforest
it used to happen like love
but now I’m divorced
from the

Long Way (for M2)

We hadn’t spoke in months
but then my phone buzzed
like a startled rattler or the
end of the period it came
from nowhere like a water
spout and drenched the fires
of my longing like zealous
volunteer firemen the call
caught me by surprise like a late
night doorbell my hello hung
in my throat like a starched shirt
too perfect too starched were my
words that they fell from my mouth
like glass