with heaven as my witness,
there are not enough pines
to fill this hollow heart.
escape into the woods.
from the bottom of a ravine,
you cannot hear the ice crack
under her feet.
crack your whip
and see how many birds
come looping out
of holes in the trees.
one rabbit will bound
out of a thicket.
brave the thistles.
get close enough
to see yourself
in its marble eyes.
find yourself
beginning again.
you tried to explain heaven,
but I just couldn’t wrap
my head around it.
it was like a carnival
with all the lights on,
but the rides grind
themselves to
stock-still.
the ride operator winks,
lifts up his straw hat,
and suddenly, he is
buried in a rainfall
of torn tickets.
the sun is so spicy.
it burns my hands
as I exit the ride.
will these blisters scar?
is my love-line forever broken?
does God really
take me as I am?
it looked like wine
spilled and fanned out
over the tiles of the cathedral.
the O of your mouth
was a window. it made me
nervous just to look into it.
I saw some words
caught in the pools
of your cheeks.
there were birds
resting in the beds
of your molars.
this room is hollow,
your eyes are still
wide open.
I lined up all my collections
down the center line of the highway:
feathers, coins, stamps, shells,
porcelain cats, ticket stubs--
to see how far they’d take me.
I just wanted to be more irresistible.
all the letters that tumbled through
or mail slot told me I wasn’t quite
right. I was what wasn’t.
I'm banking on the fact
that a new year is coming.
it shines like newly-washed fruit.
your thighs are
the turrets to
my house
you said to me
as I took a bite
out of an apple
that didn’t taste
like much of
anything at all.
your teeth
are diamonds
I found in the snow
you said to me
as I tossed the core
into the bathtub
just to see it float.
I didn’t tell you
what I did last night
because I knew
you’d scream.
you said to me
as the apple bobbed
and the water
grew cold.
go slow.
start with the
smallest stones.
little hunks of quartz,
penny-sized hematite,
a tiny piece of asphalt
stuck to the wheel of
a bicycle.
next, find the smoothest
and flattest--perfect for skipping.
they will glide right across
the slope of my stomach.
if you can,
with your two strong arms,
I want you to get
the stone virgin mary statue
from down the block.
uncurl the vines from her robes,
pull her out of the flowerbed.
she will be heavier
than you always thought.
throw her.
pick her up,
throw her again.
you are the bravest thing
to ever fall down these
hardwood stairs.
you asked me
to spot you
and your weak ankles,
but I couldn’t help
looking away--
towards the red
warnings about snow
that flashed from
the television.
I want to bury
everything. You
want to unearth
it all. It’s falling now.
