It was all dark.
My mind was bleak and foggy,
tangled in cobwebs,
caked with years of undisturbed dust.
An apparition of my former self
glaring in the mirror.
Who was she?
I forgot.
Bigger than this.
Happier than this.
But I forgot.
She was worthy and pretty
despite it all.
Then, a spider crawled inside her ear.
Year after year, it spun its home,
each new entanglement
dulling her spark.
Pulling out the webs,
thick and gross,
sticking to my fingers,
clarity returns,
and the fog slowly ends.
But then again,
is there ever really clarity?
Or are all brains simply balls of webs?
.
.
.
.
luces
Where light shines.
posts
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Bedroom Corners
Backed into a corner…Guys are always so much bigger, no?It’s almost unfair.Dad buys you self-defense so you don’t get cornered—or at least that’s what he hopes.But if the world really cared, they’d kill the problem at the root,not pluck the stem to regrow,blaming silken, flowing, sumptuous hairinstead of wrists pinned like shackles behind you—a problem…
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Runner’s Hunch
My dad’s shouldersare distinctively hunched,a hunch belonging to a certain type.Runners.The distance kind.The move-till-you’re-dead,make-your-lungs-melt,13-miles-a-day,distance kind.That’s my dad,thirteen miles a day since 12.Gotta get on the trail even when he feels like hell.Thin as a rail with a noticeable hunch.Dad.He doesn’t think of it much,but I do.We all do.That’s how he’s recognized.Shoulders slowly sloping?Dad.See someone else…
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The Moon Walmart
. I saw you in the Moon Walmart,but I looked the other way.Ran the other way.Ducked behind a displayand peeked out at you from overtop.Today, the sun is hot—bright and scorching on the flowerpotoverflowing with forget-me-notsby the end of the driveway that used to be yours.And as I start my daily chores,I watch the neighbor…
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Bluebird
. Bluebird softly tittering.Maybe Bluebird’s what I’ll call you.Soaring through these gray, spring skies,then landing soft and jittering.Frolic through the heather’s dew,then enter in my life. Twinkling, soprano songs.Idle, lively chatter.Little Bluebird talks the day away,and it really feels not longbefore the gentle, quiet pitter-patterof your feet starts up and fades. What a pretty time.What…
LUCES 