Moo Goo Gai Pan Means Love

Moo Goo Gai Pan Means Love
He brought me Chinese food that night.
Slighty ashamed that anesthesia and grief hadn't stolen my appetite
I ate it.
He held my hand and whispered,
"We can try again."
He loved me with worried eyes,
when I couldn't stop the tears.
I slept, and
he watched me.
Knowing his permanent presence,
I relaxed into unconsciousness,
lessing my pain.
He kissed me in the morning
when he left for work.
He found me crying on the couch
when he returned.
Holding his flowers and a tear-stained card,
overcome by being his best girl.
Scared of trying again and failing once more,
his arms became a safe harbor,
and he comforted me until dark.
My selfish sadness unaware
of his unshed tears.
He had lost a child too,
one we never knew.
His pain was just as real as mine.
I brought him Chinese food that night.


Disappearing Act
Years disappeared into growing bone,
rounded flesh--pinking lips and fuller hips,
eyes of knowing.

Currents coursed through limbs,
stretched at night--inches stolen from innocence
added to height and weight.

Trust settled down in her belly,
banked by confidence--hibernating adolescence
waiting for spring.

Clay hardened to permanence,
evoled to gilded luster--pure charm
removed itself from the repertoire.

Child, where have you gone?


The Joke
You and I have such lovely, cutting tongues.
We sharpen our wit on each other's hopes,
slicing away with precision strokes.

This relationship is a joke, you know.
One in which my love for you becomes
the penultimate punchline.

We laugh though it burns each time we do.
The one who laughs the hardest hurts the most.
Your laughter is a mess, so just confess.

Why hide your tears on trickling giggles?
No wait...stop...I think....
I've heard this one before.

Syntax Unique
Dancing is speaking
without words, a silent language
with a syntax unique.

Artful infusions of music
command the body to roll and glide
on waves of transparent sound.

Such emotion in motion
is expressed with a wrist turned just so,
fingers splayed and rippling.

Magnetized flesh sways,
bending, doubling upon itself in rhythmic time
and moments slide effortlessly into one another.

Supple movements accompanied
by hot, searing breath
render words mute.

Sensuous, trickling beads of sweat
speak volumes in their stead,
whispering down graceful arms and legs.

Hospital Corners
I'll be better tomorrow.
All right angles and hospital corners.
Everything will have its place,
and every place will have its thing.
I'll smile and even laugh.
I'll pull the daggers from my eyes and back.
I'll close my ears to the whispers
and my eyes to eyes that see.
I'll laugh and even smile.
Every place will have its thing
and everything will have its place.
All right angles and hospital corners.
I'll be better tomorrow.