a clean house

yesterday there was sweat drippin off my knees while i swept the kitchen floor.

all the laundry is put away. except for the socks that have lost their match.

how does that happen?

and the closet got organized. blankets folded and pillow cases riffled through.

a pile to go to the salvation army.

woke up in clean sheets.

thursday morning relaxed and quiet. watermelon for breakfast with pesto and bacon.

and now a friend on the porch with iced soy latte.

i love her

the fuzz on her cheek, the rhythm of her laugh.

the way we don't ever need to speak and yet we know.

i hate her with the other woman.

it makes my heart cringe. and yet i willfully listen to her stories of their life together.

i will sometime have stories of my own to share.

and then her heart will cringe.

a morning so innocent can fall asleep in the afternoon

groggy, craving the sunshine she missed.

fruit flies on the sweet fur of the peach in the kitchen catch her attention as she stands at the sink filling a watering can.

cilantro blossoms delicate, and a table cloth stained with the vigor of radish green filled mouths.

sit in the slant of evening.

waking her senses, enveloping the curve of her thigh.

the promise of dusk threatens a day with out productivity.

running in circles

is it self sabotage?

i fell and haven't gotten back up. i make my space and sit within its walls. shut in.

on the porch in the jungle of my creation.

and i love it. fight it. want it and push it away.

drive headlong into the traffic wanting the resistance of the metal on my skin to wake me up.

will my wings grow if i jump?

feathers sprout from my shoulder blades and lift me?

cause this crash, this stagnant puddle is murky and i want...

light and growth.

swim to the other side of the ocean and know i will make it.

that i belong in a school of fish.

silver and slippery.

that my jungle is there waiting for me to build it.

my empire real and solid.

prolific and masterful.

mine for the rest of the world.