fridge magnet poem

dark spring

bluest in our garden

whispering

ballooning

under rain

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goodnight in so many words (when you have nothing to say)

Textually over. She was glad; it ended just like the Modest Mouse song, where the conversation only goes in circles. Finally, the conversation ends, allowing her to breathe. Grow up before you look at me. Stop your selfishness; learn your empathy.

pupils=universe

Some mornings you will find me turned toward you–my nose barely touching yours, my chin tilted upward–enjoying your sleep. You curl fetal, a small animal (chipmunk or flying squirrel) as it clings to its mother (pseudo-goosedown pillow with blue piping). I trace your temple; you whimper. First melon-tinged light sneaks past the blind slats as you squint one reluctant eye open–a gold-flecked iris in bloom. Pupils unfurl like clenched buds bringing my day break. I breakfast beneath your vast lashes. And, when dawn’s light is just so, I understand the big bang theory, your pupils–my universe perpetually expanding.