Metronome Mouth

And so you tap your chisled-tipped words on chalkboard like a metronome mouth piece. I time the words of betrayal. Right on time.


Pin the warmth between the sheets

Missing him will all it’ll ever be

Daylight shadows cover me in all the forms of fleeting time

from hours I can’t leave my mind

In bed and shook and slaughting rhyme

Of what I could have done to keep him mine.


I walk the tightrope to you heart. On the string of screaming stares we give each other through the night. Winced between dancers and movement of the bodies between us. We never touch; only sift the energy through our palettes of passing people until our bodies reach for an arm. Stable enough to rest our breath until it shakes from the weight. And the tightrope extends from my eyes as I walk backwards through the night.

A Moment

Forgive me.

I left chocolate ice cream stains beneath your chin.

I wanted to indulge in your young soul for a moment more than socially appropriate.

A precious memory to be sewn into my long term and yours for the time being.

Over time you have retreated; waning your womanly characteristics into the child your mother must have known.

In a bittersweet, didactic daydream, I connect with your mother. I washed your hands and cleaned your face with the napkin.

At this moment I know I have exactly four minutes to collect.

To learn the fast facts of your history, ancestory, and memories, before the reset button functions without fail.

One moment to use the tongue your mother bestowed because you forgot the one handed to you in school. Tell me of the mallet that whipped a whisper.

Lend me one moment to tell me of the time you left your future husband on his knees for weeks, begging for your hand to please.

And let me steal a moment to remember when you found religion at the bottom of a sack of carrot seeds; hands blistered by the weeds and threw care to the breeze.

Lend me a moment more to collect these memories so that I may be a record for the family of the grandmother who lived in the moment

Because that’s all that ever existed.