downpour

every time it rains

the sky is pouring one out for the homies

all the dead gods

not the greek ones or whatever

the ones so old

no one remembers their names

and on the hard days

the sky cranks up the boom box

extra loud

the favorite songs

to crash and crack

open 

the clouds

geode

tenderness is a bludgeon

gentleness is the hammer

cracking open the geode

every soft gaze is a blow

again, please

aren't you aware?

just the inch of your hand

that contains your fingerprint

splits rock

revealing gems long buried

releasing water

summoning heat

your laugh -- 

already it has left

spider line splinters

all over my surface

don't stop now

ego death at pilates

it didn’t happen because of anything enlightened

I simply ceased to exist

eyes locked with the body in the mirror

I realized I am not

and dissolved from within my polyester leggings

the idea of being a separate entity?

absurd.

take me back. 

grandmother's mirror

ever since I was a little girl

I never liked the way I looked

in my grandmother's mirror

no matter what the angle

unflattered and unfettered

me

I could never meet her gaze

until today

the first visit just

grandmother and I

after grandfather's passing

we make eye contact

reflection & I, we

hold steady the gaze

we are different people

now

reflection & I, we

hold the hands of ache and age

not the other way

around

and the mirror speaks it

back and forth

a woman who meets her own gaze

a woman who meets the gaze of life 

when you are thrown from

the frying pan into the fire

there is a moment

where you are simply

in the air

I dreamt about you for the first time

last night

oh love

but you slipped away

when I woke up

won't you tell me what I dreamt?

oh love?

tell me - was it your eyes?

or your smile?

or some way you know

how to touch me

that I don't yet know?

oh love

I will let you slip away

every waking

if it means

I get to hear you

tell my dreams unto me

wide-eyed in morning light

I will believe every word

oh love

keeper

I keep a goldfish

and feed him memories

he swims in his bowl

vodka not water

and glows with life

when I tell his memories unto him

we are not so different 

those who keep my memories will keep me

when I am released

and swimming in the beyond

but unlike a bowl of vodka

there is no drowning in the beyond

and all bowls empty into the ocean

not the other way around

the one memory I cannot seem to keep

for my goldfish

no matter the feeding

no matter the telling

he can leave his bowl

any time