20 Sep 2013


She was thrown and caught by plastic flippers
and lived trying not to fall in the drain.

Masculine shoulders she leaned her head on
flung her in the air, whenever it was time,
she, never could predict when.

Learning how, to fall not knowing is far worse than falling.
To hurt and heal then hurt, resuscitating sleeping wounds.
To see her sadness a full moon rising again and again in a habitual cycle
Her dreams weak and shivering like the reflection of a
beautiful rubble dancing in the water.

A honey bee does not know,
landing on seductive sundews, nectar sticky traps
chew her in, spit her out, broken soggy wings
wet with venom drool.

A firefly knows how a life of aspiration begins and ends
within a day,
thus she lives it, burning.