Discounted Poetry

Maybe I'm too tired to muster up a meal. Maybe I'm not hungry anymore. Perhaps I've eaten my last. She whispered soft Beneath her arctic eyes She loved me. I'm out of words, Replies, A penguin on the drifting ice, Floating farther from the land And friends and mates and snow And deeper into water Even fish won't populate. She radiates. I've got to go. - 5/28/26

Press the mud Beneath your fondling fingers. Push the brush across To trail a maze, Moonlight above The sudden city. Poetry, It breathes without the blood. It cannot  Set this scene, Her hair in tides against your shoulder Or between the window and you. When luck's in love, Her face now facing you, Her smiles always noncommittal  But occasionally, Something slips From narrow eyes And you're aware You're sharing a secret Like a holy hot Croissant in winter transit shelters. Inside the bus Within the gentle metal growl, Beside the greying pastures Letting loose their solid lines, She smells of pastries Glazed. Her heat, The blanket heart of everything. - 5/27/26

Her shoulders rise, Release, A little rap id er Now after I've leaned Into her breath. The air is threatening to tear, A rip unleashing Sudden tumble, Smearings colored Primaries, Confused and exhilarating. We resisted wary, Waited years, But now Our pulse has fallen Into one. - 5/26/26

The fully flooded moonsky Is lighting glowing black-grey. Underneath the mustard sun, The dreams are melting. I smile, far more honest than my usual, Interpreting her private language Of dancing hands and shifting shoulders. My stomach blazes. Smoke intoxicates attempts at thinking. There are days I know she knows And days I doubt she's ever noticed. Mercy narrowed thin her eyes. We'd never survive them otherwise. A setting sun is bleeding out. I settle hoping for another dream, A fantasy wherein she sees. - 5/22/26

When the risen blade's Above your neck You panic Or you laugh. The midnight breeze Is cool but empty. Study shady sidewalks, Shadows, corners, Alleyways between the restaurants. You know There's nothing. She is not Awaiting. If you let these Questions stripped of answers Haunt your days, You've given them away. - 5/21/26

The carpet's not the floor. The opening is not the door. I thought myself a hammer, Always in her hands. I swore I knew the way, But found the hall was wrapping round. I exited into the start again. The bottom's Ever further Down. The evening is not the night. Today, I woke to bloodstains Inside my top sheet. I stared into half-light And realized my power. - 5/20/26