Found a poem of the night

I feel daunted 

Haunted by the half moon

I cry lonesome 

Wails come out to make a monsoon

Swooning But I stifle 

Clear ink runs out my nose like bullets through a rifle 

Out by the fire escape 

Cuz you were sleeping so soundly

 you said I was wasting my youth on you.  Is that your truth or just sleep talk too?

Snoring. 

Like the good little girl 

I ignore it--

Tracing where I been 

Wanting to floor it

 I take the keys 

to make a big leave 

Out the door sigh heaved

But your asleep. 

And you are not my battle 

As the wails sing out I see an ironing board under a plaid shirt's elbow

While the man belonging to such elbow lifts kids of garbage bins. 

Is he looking for an iron? 

In the morning hours things are much quieter. 

The night sky is gel lit by yesterdays emissions. 

And begrudgingly I stop all this weeping and turn for home. 

When I arrive it's like I've never gone. 

I light a candle. 

pretend its my birthday 

The mint wafts good cheer and  hurray decorations askew themselves in the dark. 

Twisted and out of sight  

Undercover

I suspect that you'll outgrow me 

Tell me eloquently  that you must now leave 

That its over

And your sorry I didn't see. 

Didn't see what? It coming. 

The haunt shadows 

Like those of the wild haired young man pushing me down the stairs. 

Summer 2002. 

Show Choir camp. 

I’m remembering it now…

a blonde boy took me 

to the basement of a church.

You man. 

Then crying at the prayer moon

I woman. 

Now typing beside our maradi gras candle. 

Tryin to calm my mind. 

Not having to know it all. 

Trying to bridge the gap. 

Heal by the night of the flame. 

Forgive and un-break. 

Connect to the source. 

Spirituality cradles sexuality. 

Finding the goddess. 

Trusting,  my goodness.