Your lips have the taste of tin

Chill and equally unyielding

I slip through the rift

In your embrace sinking

Into metaphoric winter

Is your heart really so bereft?

Do I no longer have a place there?


Our photographs age prematurely

Last year suddenly unrecognizable

Distant, time erects walls between

While our inertia gives way to petrification

Perhaps we are the walls that fear concedes?


Voices intermittent and fragile

Like a transistor radio, we now

Communicate on a visceral

Level speaking through the bowels

Fueled purely by a survival of the

Fittest mentality, more reflexive

Than reflective in our agitation


I regard you now with a rising

Suspicion the kind that soils hearts

With preemptive misdeeds, you

Have guilty hands the kind that

Betrayal breeds and that cowardice

Assuages with pitiable excuses of

Drunkenness. How easily you

Replace, how stubbornly I hold on,

Hostage in the aftermath



I undressed your letters today

The sly purple hearts clustered

In the margins like heliotropes

The scented letters leaning

Coquettishly to the right

I remembered the way

You loved me with

Such meticulous

Attention to



Hopefully I can write more today writer’s block