because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse


in the kitchen, the hyacinth
finally begins to open, its fragrance
still subtle & not enough
to cover the bitter almond
april stain. we are eight days in,
now, & you go better without
me every hour. I don’t know
if the herons will come back;
I should have remembered how it felt
to sleep beside you unwanted.
this is the second poem this morning;
it goes well with burnt espresso.
every hour there is less of me
to love, but at least it is my choosing.

9 responses

  1. Wow!

    April 8, 2015 at 8:12 am

  2. So poignant!

    April 8, 2015 at 9:21 am

    • Thanks, dahling! Bittersweet. 🙂

      April 9, 2015 at 1:57 pm

  3. Ron

    If only there were another word like “beautiful” but…without the u and i…

    Ineffably sad…


    April 8, 2015 at 9:41 am

    • Thank you, Ron. I feel like you should write a poem on that premise…

      April 9, 2015 at 1:58 pm

  4. Excellent – the last two lines really change the feel of this. Great!

    April 8, 2015 at 12:22 pm

    • Gracias, friend Mosk. It’s a hard lesson there in those lines.

      April 9, 2015 at 1:59 pm

  5. jantaiwan

    Awesome. Great emotion, or lack of emotion. Lowercase does it justice as well.

    April 9, 2015 at 10:23 am

    • Thanks. I have a penchant for lowercase. 🙂

      April 9, 2015 at 2:00 pm


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