#muse-rat

is here, and with it,

tiny snow flurries floating

tentatively down,

testing the eddies

as they shimmer and swirl.

your eyes, fragile as

this snowflake I taste on my tongue;

my heart, crystalline,

awoken by the shock of cold;

my voice, the wind’s whistle

through newly barren trees–

you first hush of snow

and I an avalanche,

I forgot to miss you

until your memory

came rushing back

like an unexpected

downpour, the dark clouds 

of Carolina summer afternoons

rolling into my mind.

the storm cleared

just as quick as it arrived,

the sun making a show of

lazy blue hills on the horizon;

the story of you no longer

whispering poems

into my impressionable ear.

but the dirty wet pavement

glimmers and stinks of

tempests and nostalgia

and I am learning how

I’ve been fooled

by nothing but

my own heart,

turning a blind eye

to what was truly there.

I see now how easily

the evidence of loving you

is put away.

the joke’s on you after all:

I’m done with tiptoeing

towards the edge;

I’m coming alive

with a vengeance

after winter’s sleep,

racing forward into

springtime, still loving,

still blooming,

I leap

with the joy of

not knowing

hate

the smell

of jasmine:

nauseatingly

sweet, just like your deceptive words.

and launch me into space

so I can get off

this godforsaken planet.

for years have I 

danced my longings

under the light of the 

full moon; celebrated

the champagne bubble

buoyancy of Jupiter;

felt the ascetic dream-

building and hand-holding

of Saturn.

turns out

it’s cold up here;

fragile,

lonely,

to want more than 

this Earth can give;

to hunger for a future

I’ll never get to see;

your orbit a brief flyby,

fearful of my gravity.

I’ll keep yearning

for the touch of far-off

celestial bodies

out here where endless

horizon can hold me,

and you’ll burn up

on re-entry,

blaze become

ash become

trembles on the end of the branch,

so my hand shakes

the first time I touch you,

as if the marvel of your skin

could shatter me, release me,

set me free and sweep me away

on some wild journey

my heart didn’t know

it could follow.

perhaps that same caress

could ground you,

hold you fast to this earth,

your soul taking root for the winter

should you tremble under the

weight of my poetic gaze,

my eyelash-fluttered glances,

the ink of my pen staining your lips

at my very words’ kiss.

my mountains have slept

for thousands of years,

languid lovers tangled

together on the horizon,

yet every year their bare branches

reach for the sky, quaking,

clawing for what might be

if they were stirred awake,

dreaming of the improbability

of relearning spring

(just like our bodies

the pain

isn’t pretty,

gut-gnawing ache

underlying every smile.

just hide the holes

in your heart with

that grin

‘til you’re patched up

for now;

‘til the quiet overtakes

the need to cry.

my foundation’s

cracked to hell, but

fuck it,

I refuse to miss

another single sunset,

another winking crescent moonrise

hiding behind these pathetic

excuses for walls.

tear me down

and put me back together again,

whatever it takes,

because this plaster shit

and summer’s burgeoning heat 

sinks into my skin.

I see myself 

in the bright refracted blue

of the sky, the impossible

loft of the picturebook clouds,

but when I look in the mirror

your smirk stares back

from my lips, the depth

of your eyes’ knowing gaze

in my reflection’s glance.

this year

I won’t be so careful

when the sun makes me

flushed; glassy-eyed

and languid; my

freckled neck bared

to sweet incandescence;

my blood turning to ink.

this year

I’ll write a new story