It creeps along the edges of this room It lingers in the trace of her perfume It wraps itself around me serpentine All thorny shadows twisting up my spine Unfazed by jealousy, with arms widespread she beckons me to our connubial bed
The first time I called home from Russia I cried for half an hour. Thirty minutes of ugly bawling on the hard wooden bench in a phone booth at the Smolensk central post office while my father sat on the other end, speechless. He barely managed to ask, “So, how are you?” before I lost … Continue reading Love letters
Last night I glimpsed the curve of the Milky Way. It was in the arch of your lip, the arc of your back. For one instant I was weightless. Unmoored, I would have drifted away but for the anchor of your arms.
I will make you a necklace of birdsong, sweet notes strung like pearls for your throat. I will convince the clouds to hold their breath, to bide awhile. Let the trees wait to break their fast while we barter flowers for kisses.
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.