Published by Binge Press in Invert Sugar, a mini-chapbook. Photo by the poet.


 Everything you ever say

in the dark I say in

the daylight but that

sends you scurrying

like a silverfish

for your moldy book

or a thick new tome

never willing to

face the poetics

of the night in the

light of the day.

Under the moon or

the starless velvet

skies I hear your

silken or hoarse

whispers of desire

flattering phrases

describing my limbs

my skin, my moist

proof of yearning

for your touch. When

I am moved to sing

these same psalms

in the morning rays

to you, to your

neck, your shoulders,

your smell, that

place you called

your bathing suit

area when we were

children together…

you need to read

and I am left to

sing my aria to

the window above the

sink as I make our

morning tea.