Image by: The Galek Sea

The First Cup is the Deepest

In the sleeply upsun 
I hear your hustlegrind
and listen for your sockstep 
stairslide return.    

I reach for the  
presspalm heatseep 
and we recline, 
shoulderhip: shoulderhip, 
as the slipdown bitterblack 
nudges us into morning.

Amidst curtainbreeze sunslant, 
we twistlimb and dayfloat, 
my hands drawing through
your deepthirstywaters.

Flight

I boarded the plane
and looked out the window.
Slipdown rain rivulets
Crisscrossed the blank-faced pane.
Beyond, stark trees shook limbs
At the cold, grey sky.

Your prickle sting goodbye 
Buzz lingered on my lips;
My one-way boarding pass
Tight crumpled in my palm.

Square wheels against cobblestone
shuddered down the runway;
With a rasping roar
The plane lifted into the air.

I lifted up, up, up,
Slicing through shifting fog
And heavy clouds.  Above
the filamentous terra firma,
I shade down
slammed the sun.