They didn't know that girls like you are trouble for girls like me. Your perfect nails, your laugh in the dark. They didn't expect your vulnerability to be the thing to break me. I didn’t expect to be the one to break.


I shed these boots with my pretenses. Kick them into the corner behind the bedroom door. Peel back all my layers. I stand here, exposed, laid bare, in my stocking feet and wait for you to say, “I thought you were taller.”


When I need to break your hold, Loose my grip; when I need to hold my fire-- All I can do is drive. In the city you drive Me to distraction; you hold Me accountable for every fire. Out here, the sting of salt-smoke--the fire In my chest--dominates my drive. I breathe it in, as … Continue reading Mojave

Learning to Swim

I speak when I should listen. Leap when I should look. I ride the wave of my self-righteousness until it crashes and, drowning, reach for the first hand I see. Now, fist closing on air, I am engulfed: I've never swum alone.


I can picture it. The orderly, bringing in the mail. The postcard with pictures of us, the happy couple, dated two weeks ago and signed, "With all my love -- Renie." The orderly asks, “Who got married?” My mother replies, “I don’t know.”