The Bluffs of Torrey Pines

We stood at the bluff’s edge
bearing into the fog.
Staring out at the emptiness
we waited for our eyes
to adjust, to see more.
But our eyes just played tricks,
making something out of nothing.



I fell in love with the seams of you.
Your lines,
your arcs,
the ridges and corners I came to crave,
The elaborate design.

In time, I could navigate you
with eyes closed.


New Beat

We were dancing in the dark and having hallucinations of glory.
These weren’t glory times
but the lights flashed enough
our skin was warm enough
and the beats were better
than the one we always heard from our chests.

We were doing a pretty good job
of ridding ourselves
of the bitter taste in our mouths.


Third and Elm

The abandoned house on the corner
of third and elm
is waiting for me,
begging me to fill it.
I do wish for suspended summer evenings
on its wrap-around porch
and breakfast in the blue kitchen
over the lake.
That simple.
It can’t be mine.


Sea Legs

There was something to be said for those nights
when we got our sea legs
with each other.
There was so much trying.


Out of Sight

The hardest part was watching the lights
turn off in your head.
We knew
we would never again see
the glorious spectrum
of cream whites, translucent golds,
and shimmering prisms
that lit up your eyes.


The Dreamers

It’s the dreamers
that live the hardest.
They wake up with glorious visions
and find themselves disappointed
with too few opportunities,
and work
that the conscious world provides.
Reality never tastes so bitter.


Fragments of Time

I spent my summers looking through picture windows
in airplanes, ships, and too-cold apartments
watching for changes in my perception.
Some sign of time.
Instead I found myself hazy and misguided.
So honestly uncertain.
These were dream-fogged days.



I feel obliged to tell you
I don’t give a fuck —
your cartoon lifestyle
and sense of direction
have at my patient way
making me tumultuous
and dangerous
a toxic concoction, you are
spinning in semi-circles
and getting somewhere inconclusive.



In the cool light of early morning
his eyes found the greening bruise
on my soft hip,
an innocent mark of my gracelessness.
He frowned slightly
and pulled me toward him under the heavy quilt,
urgently but carefully.
He adored and also loathed
the new fragility he saw in me.