you can help me move that dresser out of your place
and into mine
the chest freezer can remain
just a while longer
weighted
with all the frozen meals
prepped months before
for our then
bright and splendid
future
This Tuesday maybe
I can swing by
toss a few more of my belongings
into some of my reusable
grocery bags
and you can watch me
brows scrunched
over your piercing blues
sadly?
with confusion?
regretfully?
with relief?
This Tuesday maybe
we can make idle small talk
while I keep my eyes
averted from yours
focusing only
on the task at hand
erasing my previous presence
from your home
one item at a time
I'll awkwardly joke
now you have your space again
and neither of us
will find the heart
to laugh
This Tuesday maybe
we'll want to give
or receive
a reassuring hug
a tender kiss
promises
that we can find a way
to make this work
anything
to make it hurt
somewhat less
but
we won't.
Not for the lack of
genuine want.
No.
Because lies do not suit us
and what remains
of our love
would never
deign to
lie.
Category: poems
Minnie Sans Moskowitz
The faint,
niggling itch
which began
at the root
of my
subconscious desires
wriggled its way
ever so more insistently
up its stem
fattening
its leaves
attempting to
unfurl
perfumed petals
hungering
to
fully blossom
i stood
wanting for the sun
of you
instead
that un-scratchable
annoyance
still persistent
unrelenting
and now
becoming the bane
of my muddled
existence
the itch
i
could not
scratch
always
just almost
always
never there
you
will never know
that you
are the tickle
upon my
goosebumped flesh
the elusive
almost
the resigned
never
your touch
is
a memory
kept
vibrant and hidden
fertilizing
the soil
within my soul
i look towards the east
but the sun
has since set
i miss being your bloom
The Biggest Blip
I've been thinking about them
their smiles
their eyes
their objectification
of what lie between my thighs
their clamoring
attempts to climb back into a womb
didn't matter how
or to whom
They
were famished
me
always an easy meal
enticing
succulent
almost always
filling
I, the sacrifice,
resignedly unwilling
They
devoured my softness -
bit and chew
the flesh of my
promise
themselves...
pledging fealty
to the warmth
in which they plunged deep
hoping to find meaning
in every thrust
screaming loud
to deaf gods
no one heard them
no one felt them
no one held them ...
in the end
and I loved them.
I did.
the handful
the collective They
who cross my mind.
though a singular
is present
every time.
it is Him.
Always Him.
It's Never Not Him.
The storms and sunshine
which we wrought
but jesusfuckchrist
the times we fought
Our sparks setting the
attempts at a garden
on fire
simultaneously watering
the fertile grounds
of desire
We were always too much
and also
Never enough
We were magnificence
turned inside out
distorted
brilliant
hideous
rough
my skin itches
jumps
his grin
earnest and true
the gray in his greens and blues
the cloudy gaze
of his jealousy
and need
to possess
me
those late nights
together in his room
the line up into my hips
being traced so gently by his fingertips
a curved silhouette
against the gleam of the moon
I was only ever a prize to be won
an object to be owned
a warm body
for a lust
which was never satiated
I was the banquet
in which he fed
his unyielding hunger
in attempts to be sated
I miss Him
the most
when I am feeling
Unwanted and
Alone.
Dysfunctional love
feels better
than none at all
I think about them
The collective They
and the Him
within
I wonder
if at all
they
(all of them
but mostly)
he
ever
thinks of me
one more for the road
you appeared in the hazy fog of a dream my heart believed the dim imagining my mind knew better saw clearly we were not, in fact, sitting on your bed laughing, smiling, catching up with one another this was not reality only fabricated figments my subconscious gave you a large apartment with art furniture and a mess you were in the middle of cleaning you goofed about in efforts to elicit a giggle it worked you plopped down next to me face contrite voice earnest and then you said "i suppose i owe you an apology" even deep in my slumbered state i forgave you my words measured and melancholic, ruefully resigned "oh love, i never wanted an apology. i wanted change." i stood i stooped i gave a whisper of a kiss upon the top of your head and woke up
Commiseration
We were both lost and broken And had given up hope when we met one another Tequila told the truth As we conversed in that booth and got to know more of the other The more we chose to share Of life and love being unfair The closer we soon became The bar lights gleamed bright What to do with the end of our night Both of us the lonely same We ended up falling tipsy into bed But became better friends instead and it's been oh so nice You've since asked what of him I've missed Was it the way he and I kissed His heat melting my ice? Was it his smile or his charm the ease in which he disarmed my defenses - one two three? The way he unmasked my disguise sturdy shovels for eyes digging down to the deep of me... I gave it thought, honest and true I'd not want to lie to you my newest cohort in loss I tried to put into words The tumbled thoughts which occurred And all I could say was - "The ease in which we spoke the stupid silly jokes I miss his sad rueful grin. The way he made me feel Seen, accepted, and real My qualities and my sins... I miss how he made me believe in forgiveness and reprieve That I had been absolved. But mostly, I miss my friend I miss what could have been How we could have evolved." With commiseration you gave a sigh No more talk for tonight Quietly we took our leave I can't help but think of him still Against my best wishes and will I remain unrelieved.
YOU
I still miss you but not the You which is now what has always been I miss the You who looked at me like a newly budded flower on a seemingly dying cactus though I was always very much alive but I liked it the awe the adoration so I let it pass I miss the You who believed in betterment of self even if somewhat unwilling and it perplexed me a moment but I allowed it a slight stumbling block I miss the You who never meant or ever wanted to hurt me though you did and I let it happen because I saw potential galaxies we could rule instead of the handful of stars which to you seemed sufficient I miss the You who I knew you could be The Universe The All The Everlasting Therein lies the rub I don't miss You. I miss the idea of a You. you were never going to be You you... were only a fabrication of my heart's fantastical ideals.
resignation
i've come to accept that romance is best saved for my last dying breath
you’re not gone yet
your scent has left my linen and i can almost pretend there was never a person who shared my bed if only these miscellaneous mementos regretful reminders of you would stop popping up receipts a pair of socks a toothpick with the faint aroma of tea tree oil and mint random pieces of hard candy a puzzle you bought for all of us to do together shadows of you waning at a snail's pace
second place
giving an ultimatum the addiction or me was not my intent it was an act of desperation a move of futility the last thing i could think of to have a reason to stay because i knew all along just as the sun rises and as it sets i was never in the running.
Baby Boy
my youngest son runs his fingers through my hair it is long not wavy not straight a thick, dark, gleaming mass of unruly poof but he claims to like the softness and i feel his tiny hands grooming me gentle with love and sweetness these days are short soon he'll be of the age where this will be taboo inappropriate "gross" but right now he is my baby boy loving his mother in the kindest most simplest of ways.
But Otherwise Fine 