that this too, too sullied flesh would melt

Rain falls in March:
another step on worn pavement,
a pluck on the window screens -
just another reminder -

Snow would drop
thick fast and silent
then, exhausted, fall onto itself -
how to live, they say -

Or maybe not so.

We see our sins in rain.

june is running out and i would like a week off

Dear Miller Place High School,

I am sorry for throwing up on the side of your track. At least the orange vomit complemented the red color scheme.

Sincerely,
a citizen who ran too quicky too soon after eating sweet potatoes.

..

"You're never this blah."

Strange, but I carry thoughts and desires and duties as well. Strange, but I just want to rest tonight.

Why, yes. I am mortal.

Your arm around me and I immediately lean in. "Is that what you wanted?" I sense you've smiled.

Well, of course I'll always want that as long as you're next to me.

My eyes close briefly. I have carried myself for so long.

she touches the lightning

Lightning frightens me not at all tonight.

My shoulders strong against the rain.

Go ahead. Go ahead.

you and me and secrets in dirt

I caught up to you and me in the woods today. I was the same height, maybe a bit less muscular. You had a few inches to go, but you had enough on me.

We were walking, of course, our mouths moving faster than feet and heads turning at the sound of approaching steps. The unspoken: Who actually runs? ... Should we?

You and I let me pass and watched me move out of view. To give us credit, I thought, we would have at least pretended to run as I ran by.

Then the woods were ours again. Our secrets in dirt. But spoken, of course.

Ten years and so much now unspoken, I thought.

I could have slowed my steps - you never asked me - maybe I should have known -

No.

I ran.

pain lies on the riverside

or so it did, once.

Creaking heavy door (aren't we all older now) my creaking knee - dinghy lights and ragged looks -

Oh, old lover, the years have not found you well.

central, thinking neither north nor south

I feel safe to be anxious in this old town. Hills cling to heat and faces lift to fireworks.

Here I feel brave enough to leave. For so long I'd wanted to take that interstate north, but now I'm better off heading south...

Neither matter tonight. I drive through here and suddenly feel you, palpable as humidity: desperate desire on skin and just as invisible.

Improbable.

I drive.

Dark windows tonight and silent doors in houses we had called ours, chipped paint, crooked floors, tilting fixtures and all. Our shithole, our palace, our fire trap, our fortress. Our place.

I drive. I hear you laugh -

nearly in my ear, full sonorous range from high laughter to deep chuckle -

softened by walls in rooms I cannot see, but I know your eyes gleam as they always will.

I feel you, though it does not matter.

But the streets have not forgotten me. I drive.

Enough to make you nervous.

"You know when you indirectly know a lot of information about one person, and it makes the situation funny for you and really awkward for them?"

"How much do you know?"

"Enough to make you nervous."

a little night music

I'm dancing in the room
as if I was in the woods with you
No need for anything but music
Music's the reason why I know time still exists
Time still exists...

So I just put my arms
around you,
around you,
And I hope that I will do no wrong
My eyes are on you
they're on you
And I hope that you won't hurt me

-Elysa, "Dancing"