Dear Sister, Part IV

Dear Sister,

She teaches me the meaning of poise
the open face and silent eyes
the smile, the purse, the reticent lips

She invites the silence in for tea
encourages me to fill the space between.

We leave out unnecessary ums and uhs
in favor of softer thoughts. She pulls them
like thread through a loom, and weaves her response

into the fabric of the moment.

I find myself blessing her delicate hand
in lieu of cursing this clumsy klutz
the goodness tangible in my patchwork prose

as it drapes around my shoulders.


Dear Sister, Part III

Dear Sister,

She doesn’t know

the strength with which she reads aloud
the focus she pulls when she sings
the invitation to join her when she starts to dance.

She doesn’t know

the poetry in the way she curls her hair
the way she pulls on her thoughts like gloves
and grasps my frozen fingers.

She doesn’t know

the answers to all my questions
the x I offer to all her equations
the tomorrow she hopes today will bring.

She doesn’t know

the way to be anyone else

She doesn’t know

how else to be.

Dear Sister, Part II

Dear Sister,

She pulls us along,
the butterfly leading the caterpillars
we inch in our fuzzy toes
we shuffle in her shade.

As she fans the flames
as she showers us in light
as she soars above and looks ahead

she is not leaving
she is waiting for us to join her.

Dear Sister, Part 1

Dear Sister,

She reaches into a bag
each day
a bag ornate with the swirling blooms of love
and the patches of cashmere entwined
with silver spools.

She reaches into a bag
each day
a bag that holds the scaly remnants of snakes
and the grounds of bitter coffee
with dirty band-aids.

She reaches into a bag
each day
a bag that smells like gardenia and peach
and the scent of sated
with earthy life undertones.

She reaches into a bag
each day
and smiles.

From you, I sought, I want

From you I sought instruction
the transfer of flora to canvas
the transfer of minds onto surface

I wanted your instruction.

From you I sought understanding
the development of my change
the communication of your needs

I wanted your understanding.

From you I sought community
the sharing of like feelings
the caring of our hearts

I wanted your community.

From you I sought intimacy
the spilling of my blood
the painting of my trees

I wanted your intimacy.

I wanted those trees we brought into being
I wanted you to be there when they came out of me
I wanted your eyes to be the first to see
I wanted you to know a deeper part of me.


Not enough to watch the waves crash
the sand lash the backs of your knees
the sipping surf closing in on my toes

the soda bubbles in my nose.

We laugh, trading places with gulls
nibbling a cookie bigger than our palms
breaching the barrier cast
in a past between your love and mine

your shadow pall over my heart vine.

Edible conversation, we pucker lips
and offer the air our luscious kiss.
I can’t hear your perfume
or smell your voice
but I know the choice is there

beneath the lot in life unfair.

But we laugh in kind
our foundation layered like honeycomb
the mortar rubbing between our hands
and mutual love for the human we hold

but do not share.


The path to your sanctuary
crawls fast with me.
We walk a mile to a farm
I’ve never seen.

Unfazed by its rustic beauty
I walk in your shadow and take in
the town.

Everything wrapped up in fauna
painted with flowers and shrinkwrapped peace.

I shuffle my thoughts
and shoo away daydreams

to taste a piece of your soul
while you watch.


I don’t care
what you tell me to increase my mood
to influence the brood
in my brow
to caress my heart when it bleeds.
You need to show me.

I don’t care
what your biggest fan sells to my soul
what your best friend’s face looks like
when you are particularly woeful
what your pain sounds like
in another’s voice.
You need to show me.

Show me you want to hear my laughter
Show me you want my eyes to squeal
Show me you aren’t the you in my head
Show me the you I see is real.