Papa

your death was an accident
a man driving drunk,
nothing out of the ordinary here

but you stayed faithful to the end

purposeful even in passing –

rising, bloody and broken, to your knees

the unbroken flow of the sign of the cross,

a prayer to your Father,

and down, to death

your very shoes were flung off
by the force of the impact -

one hit the windshield of a car passing by

a car that didn’t kill anyone

the driver returned it,

a kindness that burns

the other flew off your foot

we don’t know where it went

or who found it

and if they wondered about the owner

long after we buried you

growing up

when I grew up
my mother hand-stitched 
me a dress like a dream
layers upon layers 
of silk and net
gold and white and cream

my stepfather
kissed me hard on the lips
and moved his tongue roughly 
and insistently 
inside my mouth
saying I was grown up now 
this was his gift

men who came later
threatened to kill him
gnashed their teeth and
clenched their fists - 
yet wanted the same
and more.

firefly

I killed a firefly

it kept shining, glowing
burning
        bioluminescent

still emitting light
        long after it died

it left a trail
green gold
        brilliant
        steadfast drops

burned my eyes
poor baby firefly

you taught me
how it feels

        to hold light.

perfume

I still remember

how it began,

this lifelong obsession

with perfumes

a gift from my uncle

returning home

after two decades away

(he didn't even come back

to bury his mother, you see,

forever sending her letters home

unread, unopened)

a pack of five

exquisite French perfumes

I, barely 16,

hooked

time

I always thought

we would have

more time

that day, bleeding

all over the place,

washing everything

including ourselves

laughing at disaster

when we still could

you said these

were the memories

we'd take with us

I always thought

we would make more

but no

departures

let me leave you

like one would

a building

no turning back

to give it

second glances,

caress the curves

of its arches,

or linger in its doorways

hesitant, longing

let me leave you

like that,

effortlessly –

step out into the light

or the night

at my convenience

let me enter lives

like one enters

a train, coach, plane,

exit just as easily –

sometimes there is

some stumbling,

but one recovers

let me not leave

the way one does

a horrific accident

broken, bleeding,
barely alive
numb, trembling 
and find myself

relating the tale years later

a party trick

the audience, enraptured,

indulging in the sick pleasure

of reliving visceral pain

let me leave you

as I found you,

unthinkingly

serendipitously

directions

how could you not prepare

for the sorrow waiting at the 

second turn on the left?

you know these roads

all lead to heartbreak

how could you not know

the pain being amassed

at each stop in this journey

spooned into the sunsets

dished out at each door?

that barely two turns in,

the heart screws would slip off

you would fall in the mud

and not even know it,

staring stupidly at the sky

when did you stop listening

to the directions from inside?

how could you keep on

running those red lights?

I swear it never stops

submission

if you stay still
and stay silent,
it will be okay

your silence
must not be
assertive,

nor your stillness
self-important

they must not
make any 
STATEMENT

signal
submission,
then things
will be okay,
no one will
hurt you

they will hurt you
but only so much

never more
than necessary

stitch

it is slow, this stitching 
of life together;
jaggedness everywhere

I am forever 
reciting, remembering,
reminding myself:

it is not
'blood is thicker
than water' but

'the blood of the covenant
is thicker than 
the water of the womb'

the fabric is stained
but the thread is strong
I fold the cloth over, resolute

gather my soldiers together 
in tight stitches
these new wars we will win

knifed

sitting on your bed
watching you dress

the sound of rain around us
falling heavy, a premonition

you turn your head sideways,
slowly they emerge

those knives,
four long stripes 

whose fingernails 
raked your skin?

why haven't they
gone all the way in?

dug deep into throat, 
ripped out jugular?

let you bleed, die,
spare me this sight?

she has you
by the throat 

you have me
by the heart

black dog blues

this is not a poem
this is a rant

this is a rant
about the black dog
the black dog that 
drags me down
into the mud

this damn dog
has me in a death grip
jaws locked tight
neither of us knows 
how to let go

on some days 
I can dance 
on the surface
of this mud that
must own me

and on some days
I can somehow 
stay on top
even when the ground
keeps giving way

on some days, the light, 
struggling, 
breaks in
when the fog won't lift 
or darkness ease

but most days,
most days,
are suffocating
in this sludge

this damn dog 
drags me down

the best cigarette

the one I steal
from your hand
still damp from a shower
wet from your mouth
and your fingers

the best cigarette

the last one 
before I leave
as we try to pack
all of us
into those last minutes

the best cigarette

fills this space
in my chest
when you are gone
I need to touch you
to know you are here

the best cigarette

one final drag
to see me through
it looks like us and
tastes like you

stopped

I wear my watches stopped, all of them.

each year my sister replaces hers
with newer designs, gives me one or two

they've stopped, she says,
repair them.

I nod my head, wear them as they are
remembering how your heart stopped

how your heart was stopped.


(for Lasantha)

disproportionate

this love is disproportionate
give me more of you
leave me more
of me

joy

I did not see

this joy coming

it covered its tracks well –

dreadful timing

unwarranted absences

sudden withdrawals

selfish silences

drunken delusions

this messy trail of clothes

you watching me, silently

folding them

smiling.

slow burn - III

how will my heart

let go of you –

who will tell it to?

I dare not listen to

this fearful tattoo

it now beats

one day it will hear of you

loving someone else

break again all at once

for now let it hold on to you

and break slowly

every day