woman

i couldn’t tell you
what being a woman is
everyday i try
knowing my efforts may
not be recognized
my worth may be deemed less
i think of my mother
four thousand plus kilometres away
and the power of her potential
that never came to fruition
I do it for her,
all the women before her
all the women after me

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most

i have always loved you
but i like you most
in the softest of light
when your eyes are low
and your gaze away and focused
i like you most
when your passion for
notes and strings and melodies
tilts your voice high and a touch frantic
i like you most
when you make me
the food of my childhood
with every ounce of care and love
like my mother did
i like you most
when you talk about wanting a daughter
and the sweet name she’d have
i like you most
when you wrap your arms around me
and let me breathe and release and cry
i like you most
always

extinguish

there are days
like today
where i woke up
with no kindness in my heart
with no happiness in sight
and you stand in front of me
with your big smile
and hopeful eyes
and in my selfish attempt
to make me feel better
i tear you down
but it doesn’t
make me feel any better
because you are my light
because you are the one
who does makes me feel better
with your kindness
selflessness,
with your big smile
and hopeful eyes.
and now i have no one to blame
but myself
for extinguishing my light
and yours

thief in the night

how do i describe a pain
so deep
so vast
so debilitating,
a pain where your heart
is cracked and slowly breaking apart
piece by piece
each time you remember
hearing those words,
words that changed the trajectory
of your life,
words that were uttered
with compassion
but pierced and sliced and cut
hopes and dreams
i never knew i wanted
until they were taken from me
quietly, discreetly
like a thief in the night

let you walk away

light is filtering in
slowly
the sun only beating
us by mere minutes
you’re racing
against some clock
i can’t see
but i sit back
sheets pooled just under
my chest
the cold air evident on
my skin
and watch you fight
with yesterday’s clothes
buttons slowly hide
the marks i didn’t
consciously 
mean to leave on
your pale skin 
fingernails indent
my favorite hip bone
faded teeth just above
your bellybutton 
dressed but perhaps
not fully ready
you climb onto the bed
marred sheets rustling
your face hovers
above mine
glasses framing 
tired but content
ocean blue eyes
press a kiss
against my lips
that doesn’t justify either
of our needs
of our wants
you’re already late
but i let you walk away
let you leave
with my red lipstick
lingering on your cheek
just above yesterday’s stubble

hands

more than anything
i want to know
what your hands
feel like in mine
eyes closed
roughened skin catches
the edges of mine’s soft
fingers bitten by
years of sharp cords
your craft
my pleasure
to feel the strength
of your bones
corded muscle
lined up against
my own strength
cannot belie
the pulse that would
beat between us

fingernails in your trapezius

thighs burning
mind spinning
i don’t want to let go
fingernails clinging
leaving scars deep
in your trapezius
like the bruises you
trail along my hips
mind not processing
anything
but deep, numb
you don’t say a word
but you don’t
discourage mine
because i cannot hold
back the pleas 
spilling on their own
accord as you
give me back 
my freedom. 

never good enough anyway

they say you cannot 
hide what resides in the eyes
i never believed 
until i meet you
depths of green
with a tinge of hazel
the only part of you 
that tells your full story
you can put on a smile
upon your painted lips
make your cheeks full
but your eyes never lie
and it kills me to see them
harbouring such sorrow
you will not stop denying
and it kills me that
i cannot reach forward
wipe away the tears yet
to be fallen
because my touch is 
little too feminine
because my touch is 
little too soft
so i remain at a distance
lips twisted in a smile
i cannot feel and tell you
he was never good enough
anyway

dig deep

dig your fingers
deep
let the capillaries break
in your grip
flow over your skin
red and murky
smell sharp and iron laced
don’t worry about
the pulse
it’ll quieten soon enough