Author: redrivergirl

Stay
iv.

you are
a morning fog, floor
exercise
hell bent on
tumbling into
traffic.

somersault and
roll, half-twist whisk
beads of sweat
at windshields.

transit drivers glance
and wipe, commuters
file into offices
just one small
rabbit
stays to watch
the end
of your routine, no
scoring
cards, no
roses.

Stay
iii.

You are
an unexpected storm

a long ride home, slim chance
worth taking.

Even gracious hosts
won’t ask you stay.

The Faithful
drive straight through.

Leave their clothes.

Rapture.

Stay
ii.

you are
an early Spring, a
hooker
out of blow. last
call’s drink
left on
the bar because
the building
went
and set us all
on fire.

if you believe this–
if you wish
to sit.
stay.
settle…

there are
hinges
to be left alone
and matches
not to gather.

Stay
i.

you are
a late snowfall,
blanket of
sleep, cool pillows
to sink
into. sad because
no one
wants you
to stay.
even the tolerant
shake their heads.
sip coffee.
say:

the sun will come and
float your mattress
out to sea.

Again
v.

it is the moment you realize everything and
everyone around you
is mirage.

and when you leave home
you’ll find your lover has been
sprinkling breadcrumbs
on the path again and
footsteps in the puddles lead to
monkeys, muse and morals and
you will not be
perplexed

by this.

Again
iv.

close your eyes.
fly.
break through ice of Spring again.

Again
iii.

blink your eyes.
cry.
run against the Wind again.

Again
ii.

open your eyes.
rise.
slip into Winter again.

Again
i.

it is the moment you realize everyone and
everything around you
is too loud.

and when you get home
you’ll find your lover has been
cutting animal shapes
out of recycled cardboard again and
the notes on some of them contain
unfinished sentences and
you will not be
surprised

by this.