turning lazy circles above me
the big black vulture
swoops down to pick my brain
when it’s most vulnerable
dark wings whisper that this will go on
and on
and on

I shiver then sweat in my sheets
watching the hours slip by
I beg the beast to leave me be
make promises and bribes
while it cackles at my misfortune
taunting me with unfinished business
threatening tomorrow

only when
I’m reduced
to a fearful, quaking shell,
the cruel beast,
having finally grown bored of me,
perches on my chest
and plucks out my eyes

Coffee Shop Love Poem

To be the hem that grazes your bare leg

or the perfume that splashes your skin

the page that bows with your delicate touch

or the book by whose pages are turned

to be the napkin to which your lips are pressed

the ceramic cup from which you drink

to be your drink.

I would engross you

like your favorite book, read again.

I could be as warm and familiar

as your morning cup of coffee, refreshing

as your first lap of water. I would be the dog

lying at your feet, if only you’d pet me

from time to time.

But alas, I am the fly

too timid to alight on your wrist

to even buzz about your head.

Instead, I watch you from afar

with my million, mosaic eyes.

Photo by Laura Lascarso