Nothing of your heart is granted

Though I hold supposedly the key

The lock has calcified

Too much saliva

The extrication of old sutures

With an arthritic tongue

I know that you do not deny me

That you have set so many traps

Against intrusion that you

Have become morally wounded

And thus incapable of answering.


The door remains bolt upright.

Like the starched flesh of an ancient beast

We measure it as one measures

The universe with both

Trepidation and awe

Knowing that all we possess

Is infinitesimal in relation


A single breath is at times

All we can muster

And at times a triumph

Worth more than the printing press

If I could I would write of our love

But no one would believe it

It’s too fantastical and the blankness

Of the mirror disputes you

That’s the price of immortality

Banishment and we in the dark

With our bones worn and hollow

And nothing but

A pale blue handkerchief

To absorb the anguish


I did a reading but I am very shy and if anyone is at home with me I get very self-conscious so that’s why I sound distracted. Also I made a mistake I say mortally and not morally in the reading