That Day

I could see them, in the kitchen probably.
Old grimy telephone cord. They still had a phone attached, in all manners, to the wall.
Bickering without being so concrete. How specific should I be? How I should react?
Married for years, both keeping their names.
Soft-spoken and well-meaning with faces and voices that made you think they were science teachers or folk singers.
But the news was the same, no matter who was on the other line.
And as much as anyone tried, I still felt completely alone.

Light Sings Warning

The light sings warning like a canary, turns sepia before I find the energy to get out of bed, and then it's gone completely. I felt it coming all day. Felt it this morning when I woke at 7 o'clock and couldn't wait for him to leave. Felt it when I could barely finish half of a goddamn turkey sandwich. Felt it when I just stared into the dark of my cave, coveting my precious, wondering when I became all the men I've dated for the last 5 years. Sometimes it feels very hard to step out of that front door, but I know I will be the better for it every time I do.

For Julia, in the Deep Water

"The instructor we hire
Because she does not love you
leads you into deep water,
The deep end
Where the water is darker.
Her open, encouraging arms
That never get nearer
Are merciless for your sake.

You will dream this water always
Where nothing draws nearer.
Wasting your valuable breath
You will scream for your mother-
Only your mother is drowning
Forever in the thin air
Down at the deep end.
She is doing nothing,
She never did anything harder.
And I am beside her.

I am beside her
In this imagination
We are waiting
Where the water is darker.
You are in over your head.
Screaming, you are leaning
Your way toward us,
You are learning how
In the helpless water
It is with our skill
We live in what kills us."

~ John N. Morris

The Once and Future King

"And in truly yielding, she had won the battle by mistake."
~T.H. White

The House of Mirth

"What Lilly craved was the darkness made by enfolding arms, the silence which is not silence, but compassion holding its breath."
~Edith Wharton