Image by: The Galek Sea

The First Cup is the Deepest

In the sleeply upsun 
I hear your hustlegrind
and await the stairstep 
sockslide back to me.

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, 
our hands drawing through 
deepthirsty waters.

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.