I love the spice
The haze
The medium body
Not quite full

It meant I had the whole
An hour
Maybe more

And silence
The paper ring

On my finger

I watched the ash
and then

it fell

Until the light
Of another flame

I’ll see you

The Worrier

Why is it that

at 3 a.m.

all the things

which I can do


nothing about

sneak into my pillow case

wrap around my calves

like twisted sheets –

a linen noose


I wish I could bring my sleeping bag

into your room

and close my eyes

on the floor

next to the foot

of your bed

because that is where I always

slept the best.