DRINK (enough)

 

when will how are you

stop feeling

like a loaded question

 

will my hands

ever stretch enough to catch

and hold up the waterfall

 

will I curse it

will I bathe

 

will my tongue

ever stretch enough

to drink it all

 

LEAVE THE LIGHT
 

our love a stubborn stag

lying among shrubbery to die

by some miracle

of old age

instead of bite or bullet

no gruesome wound

no blood

 

a quiet death

a sigh

just the next

natural step

twitching ears with white tufts

of hair hear thunder

not far away

 

the beast’s head slumps

and from his antlers come tumbling

pictures of our memories

and in his large black marble eyes

 

the flicker of lightning

is mirrored in the shifting glare

of the TV as you sleep

with your head in my lap

 

lower the volume

but leave the light

so the new darkness

doesn’t wake you

 

softly massage

my fingers in your hair

study your long, black

baby giraffe lashes

 

I didn’t know then

it was the last time

we’d be so physically close

 

eye-burning gratitude

for this soft farewell

because if the break

had been violent 

I fear my mind

could not snap back

like a brittle rubber band

for how does one recover

from the rending

of their lungs in half

 

an athlete’s torn tendon 

a heart muscle skipping

like a stumbling sprinter

abruptly falling

failing

still

BIRTH MARKS
 

composure lost

our laughing shadows

sweep over gouges

healing and something

dissolved between us

blameless children again

 

tie me up

hurriedly but carefully

a small raw smile

pulls at my lips

oh, to see your face just then

 

rope digs twisting wrist

your hold on my neck

is hesitant but I hope

for pressure— tension

I wonder at your gentleness

your fear

 

kiss my way around you

stopping only to focus

on birth mark road stops

 

I bite

down on that sweet slope

above your clavicle

but just a little 

not quite committing

 

was this a let-down 

how much pain

were you hoping for

was I just a tease

did you long for blood

an unspoken release

 

THE TRAIN
 

throat’s sore

neck tired like

my head’s too heavy

 

become a universe

and delete all

parasitic text messages

 

I lost my thought

I missed the train

 

I find I can’t care

that you’re drowning

downing my coffee

closing my eyes tight

 
 

© 2020 by Lee Dobecka