Diminished
From the wind, I think
Or what’s riding on it
Chilled uncertainty?
Despite any positive prophecy or revelation
Holy, scholarly, or both
It’s what troubles me to the core today
And my sisters too
So let us weep in any and all ways tonight
So the morrow we’ll feel as ourselves again
Whole
With grateful paintbrush in hand, I am leaving space for you
A beautiful a background, careful, I capture the sun
Find now open an area broad enough and close enough to the sky
That your shoulders might fit and comfortably give rest to what is
I know not the shape of you, tho’ your colors, you’ve made clear
Bright-dark weathered patina that complements my tempest greens
Vivid chards of amber to offset my mountainous blues
Your easy frame an open window, a willing respite
Fighting your way, straight to the foreground of me, for me
Withstanding, will they find us, the very wildest of climes
I wouldn’t wish to sit there
With you us-only types
It’d hurt too much, cut too deep
Magnify my too-obvious void
And I wouldn’t want you to see
What I let y’all do to me
Keep your eyes covered
Should I ever have the need to walk
As part of my strategy
To retire the jeers
To bring my story home
Lest you take me, lies, like Jupiter’s gravity, I send you away, as a test by one being tested, that I might measure and dare the firmament, to learn with interplanetary certainty, whether you’re mere stardust, passing through…or the stormy and beautiful consequence of all my years of staring heavenward.
We all have the look of alone, alone
Save for the duo who just strolled through the revolving door
They look alone together
The cheerleader in me asks them to embrace here and now
And be grateful for the together part
What of this urge to cheer for them…and then I remember
Be content with this, never want for more
I’m sure I’d kiss you
Let the world call me crazy
You’ve made me fearless
All the noise, the propaganda 
Alone again
An actual text about spaghetti?
Anarchy in Our analysis
Anti-logic amongst us
A sunny arena today
And hope, always
And a promise, actually
And not really alone, after all….
It is as if
When laying on the grass
Face to the sky
Which we all do
We see high noon through one eye
And midnight through the other
Which we all don’t
Bright then Dark
Breakneck speed
It is enough
