strawberries+arsenic

Her fingers were  birds gunning
across gray northern skies. She touched ivory
 keys while her ivory teeth
        clicked, clicked, clicked,
 to the waltz that she played with finesse.

When her husband came home he
neither spoke nor loved. When that man
came home she neither slowed nor spoke.
Her teeth went click, click, click,
to the now choppy rumba she played with vigor.

And then she stopped playing to fix him
a drink. His heart consumed the papers
colorless news. She poured in his
poison and kissed the glass; her teeth went
        click, click, click.

His heart beat once and then twice,
twice again, then back to one,

and was done.

self portrait on a tuesday

my eyes, your eyes-
they are everything that i despise.

we dance, marching back and forth in unimaginable patterns.
the lies are what lie thick and smooth.

we eat till our hearts pop and then start it over again.

but now i will walk away; you will know me another day.

this is a faded portrait for some days i cannot be whole.
today we will not dance, you may not romance me,

i said we cannot dance. do

not make me repeat it.

will you disown me?

or seduce my hands and features with paint,
running the paintbrush down my hair when you are done.

i wish to play artist too.

paint my face,
paint my face as it should be seen.
a divine Versailles, use a heavy hand.

(whatever can be conceived) the reveal and the diagnoses,
the mold and the dinner party,

these things are my work.

i cannot be stereotyped for i am my own.

what proof, what case can you make
to provide or define reasons for keeping a secret
which holds no reason.

call me your
goddess of all seasons,
and you may take me in four poses...

wet your brush, i will strike timely.