I spoke
to past
lovers
today
dust settled
we talked
like old
friends
hatred anger
disappointments
evaporated
cleared like skies
after the storm
I’d like to think
that we can
at last
be children
again

His world
is seen through
a lens
which he clicks
and everything
is captured
like convicts
caught like salmon
stolen like treasures
he ensnares
the world
in his camera
showing images
to us
that we’d otherwise
never see

The ache
which smoldered
deep in my belly
like an old iron stove
has been extinguished
recently by a chance
encounter
like bumping
into someone
the surprise turned
to laughter turned
to passion
hands were free
to explore terrain
once soft and circular
then firm
with determination
suddenly we
weren’t strangers
but lovers
ensnared in a Chinese
finger puzzle
they tighten
when you leave

is good looking
like a favorite
book
hair the color
of black sand
pebbled with gray
hair sits on his chest
like paint splatters
his stomach inhales
and exhales
down to his narrow
hips and full
buttocks

his name is William

I remember him

The rain
comes in sheets
like linens snapping
on a clothes line
the wind whistles
and howls and
makes my dog
bark
streets still
deserted like a sci-fi
flick
an all-clear hasn’t
blown
it’s a tropical storm
not a missile
crisis

Rain is coming
they predict
a weeping rain
saturating the ground
loosening moorings
like getting
a divorce
It’s raining
now outside
my window
simply rain
without the hype
of a hurricane