muscle memory

i don't know how
to be me
without you.

my bones crackle
and my blood pulses
but i have no reason
to move
and anyway
i don't know how
anymore.

will you think about me
when the first snow falls?

i'll imagine your face
outside my window,
begging me to be
your snow angel
and maybe
then
i won't feel so cold.

Rain

the bump on your
left pointer
indicates to me
little more
than your attention
to detail

one might call it
unsightly
but you see
more than anyone should


cigarette smoke,
while diaphanous,
leaves even
black-eyed susans
dirtier than before

filament

she left the light on
she said
because
she'd watched him
in the dark
one too many times

there's only so much
eyes can adjust to

sometimes
in the early morning
the only thing to be seen
is yourself