Face Off

With a wistful gaze
you wondered aloud about
how we are living out our movies,
wearing our masks,
following our scripts.
Wondered what your mother and father
and the rest of your team of angels
might be thinking of you,
your hair spiritedly disheveled -
a wild iris accented with streaks of gray -
I thrilled to take in your face,
suddenly realizing the splotches
on your cheeks weren't bad makeup
but simply your ruddy flesh.
I got lost in your pouty baby lips
whose pink smudged past your cupid's bow
- not lipstick, mind you - just a natural blending.
I feasted on your two too cute buckteeth.
Your outer incisors curved to match the
bend off your bottom lip.
I drunk in your large eyes
as they peered off into the distance,
perhaps resting upon some spiritual plane,
and such assured, adept creases caressed them.
You transformed into some cherubic Hispanic
version of Marilyn Monroe-cum-Isabella Rossellini.

I, who had witnessed my body
dissolve into blisters over the years
and fought tooth and nail for a few more
in the vain hope of getting it back
to finally be able to sit at a table with you
over a cup of coffee
and share a slice of cake.

Watch Out!

- Beware -
Fierce beauty is on the loose!

You may come across it on your way to work,
on a walk,
on a trip to the grocery store.
No place is safe!

Your neighbor, a coworker,
- even a random stranger -
may be in possession of it.
There is no telling who it might be!

Should you encounter said beauty,
- this is a warning! -
if you drink it in with your eyes
and allow it into your soul,
it will eviscerate you,
- I repeat -
complete annihilation of the soul.

Tell-tale symptoms include
a deep, burning sensation that seems to linger forever.

Stay on the lookout!
That is all.

Contents May Be Hot

It's a nice day
 for a latte
 and a wrecking ball
Inner beauty can't be seen
 but words kill
So powerful
 they cast a spell
 of utter destruction
 inside my chest
What once was buildings
 is now just sky
 with little clouds
 and little birds, chirping

Que Saran, Saran

In my youth, I was pretty -
my skin so smooth.
Then I got used -
 stretched out -
I was clingy -
A cover for others' purposes.
Now I'm wrinkled and frumpy
 and no one is interested in me.
At least I fulfilled my destiny.

Acquired Taste

Love is in my mouth -
 on its roof -
 like a seldom used broiler
 now stuck on.
My breath runs hot -
 like a quiet dragon
 huffing to itself.
Will I ever express
 the burning word? -
 or maybe it is just
  a gentle kiss.

Oh, you Devil!

After all that therapy,
I can finally stand
 to see myself.
My horns shine,
 from when I filed them down.
My tail twitches,
 from between my legs.
My hooves tap,
 à la Shoeless Joe,
 how apropos.
My bed blazes
 all ready
 for when I lie down in it.


A favorite item can't be replaced.

The cup I was -
I liked to drink out of -
is broken now.

Was it my fault?
Was it my faults? -
the fault lines that make it
 so easy to break?

In defiance...
In love... with, of, for myself
In the fire,
I bleed gold
and heal.

My faults
My spangles
My Self