Puppy!

It came in a pretty blue box.

Saddled in satin and
bright glitter,
the bow echoed the fragility
of the hidden contents.

It came, sleeping,
on pink tissue paper -
covered, save for a tiny furry ear.

One eye open,
it peeked at me, cautiously,
as I raised the little thing
from the superfluous packaging.

Desperation, Born of Love

I'm afraid of this solitude;
it is all I can do not to break,
for want of his touch and soft whispers.

The Ripped Weaving

One's every pretenses ripped away,
the tapestry called Civility, unraveled in a single pull,
where the small rip was borne.

One's every plan destroy,
systematically; intriguingly
slow is the destruction

and the images of the past
and the hopes of the future,
all the bright reds and pinks and whites.
Swept away into the fire
in a moment of tearful
passion.

After Birth

The woman shook as her heart
beat loudly between soft palms.
She watched it,
                        confused and curious both,
as the child tucked it away
into static-lined folds
of its pastel green blanket.

And the woman said to herself
as she was reborn:
     this new babe,
     tender and sweet as he is,
     has killed me with love
     of his utter
     innocence.

Meditation

Today I left my trinkets
and teddies and toys and tears
scattered on the floor.
I walked into the sunlight
and was set aflame
by the new day.

A soft breeze came, silently,
whisking away my cremated skin
and settling my mind's ashes
over the earth like dandelion seeds
tossed into the clouds
by a child's kiss -

I opened my eyes, invigorated
and smiling.  My hand reached
into a paper bag of peaches
as I watched the clutter on the floor
eat up my space.

The Façade I Wore

The façade I wore
melted like yellow gum drops
soured by the excessive summer heat.

It dripped down slowly into
the two outstretched palms
waiting for the slow, bubbling liquid
to move.

It would take some time
before the awareness
                shock of my
sudden nudity would sink away,
allowing the next porcelain mask --
sugar-coated, candied and rhinestoned --
to surface.

The Rising Sun

The rising sun
weeps breathy petals of frost,
shaking away the cool calm of night
with pale silk fingertips.

Long and graceful,
it stretches its divine limbs
over Gaia,
its lovely child,
whose pine green nails
dig the light down from the sky.