01142012

returning

after days of being away

to our house

to our home

i see your reflection

in the glass door

as you lead the way and

my breath leaps

as the key glides

and the lock clicks loud

and the door swings wide

and i notice

your hands

your fingers

that love me so carnally

trembling beside the curtain

the landscape

of your back

rippling

like a starlit river

before

you turn

to me

and say,

the house was

hollow

without you.

01072012

we exist

not in the psychological

but in the physical

though the psychological will

pretend her supremacy

and we will

pretend to believe her

always.

01052012

for the zealous . . . and the jealous . . . in all of us . . .

01042012

once grown

we can never be children again.

we feel too much

see too much

know too much.

or . . . is it that we know too little

that holds us back

from being who we are

for fear we will expose

the child living inside

isolated . . . forbidden . . . marginalized

waiting to be delivered

from our own adult shadows

and left to live

to feel

to see

to be . . . and let be?

once grown

our inner judge . . . inner critic

is always there

always ready

to sentence . . . and condemn.