tomatoes slow to
soften rimed in autumn sleet
not yet, not yet, please

spartan

I would lay
my gauze upon
your scars protect you
from a world too bent
on leaching you into
nothing I would
hold you to me
feel you sighing
shifting under me
no one sees you
as I do no one
feels you as I
do I whisper
restraint
even as you sift
into the very
roots of me
restraint
as the bay winds
come laughing
through us
seeing what
I cannot (or
will not)
I am no
longer gauze
and your scars
have long since
healed now we
are threaded through
into a wefting of
me grown into you
you groaning in me
and there is
no restraint as
the bay winds
come laughing
through us
(there never was).

sometimes only
when we have fallen
are we free
our final choice
to let go
riding a lonely wind or
clattering like young
girls' roller skates
or plummeting like
cherty leaves after
release we have
no more choices
but wait
to be worn
into nothing
and thereby
become everything
because we chose
to fall

gold leaf offerings
chattering ducks look elsewhere
wishful river sighs

how odd it is
that I am
so wounded
yet so strong
so flawed
yet so beautiful
so broken
yet so resilient
so empty
yet so complete

I have pockets
I never knew existed
longing to be filled
tensile, porous
decorated by gifts
carelessly left behind
unprotected, hopeful
insubstantial as fairies' wings
and just as elusive

you are a snail
urging me to linger
be in the moment
breathe
and I am annoyed

you are a snake
cautioning me to halt
be in the moment
breathe
and I am frightened

you are a seedpod
only a seedpod
heavy with life
supple with possibilities
deliberate as a snail
ancient as a snake

only a seedpod to be
trampled underfoot
kicked and scuffed and
finally flattened
only when you have been
ground to nothing
can new life begin

only a seedpod
and I am lost
in the moment

and I cannot breathe

your boundaries
kept me
arranged me
trembling
at every breath
decorating your barbs
captive as you
withered
upright
yet dead
still I am
pierced