in bed
one eye
watching
he stood
my dear
shadow
lamp
lit
my ghost
sweetly
sweetly
exhaling sadly
waiting, lost
deaf in our
past life
when you’re that lonely
any-one will suffice
fear is not death
any-one will suffice
fear is not death
one of his previous incarnations
how could i have ever known?
now i do, fuck, the wanting
comes like herringbone
the dizzying peaks
exhaust willpower
surrender to the
never nostalgia
near-missed
exhaust willpower
surrender to the
never nostalgia
near-missed
less than a mile away
he slept loudly, calling
my lucent meandering
to his nightly window
locked too tightly
by we never
knew who
effervescently
sea-foam retreats
inward to the deep
but must come back
as commanded by
a filial tide’s eye
we keep washing
ashore, in love
a curse of
twins
ashore, in love
a curse of
twins
we are immortal
disastress 
This is the kind of stuff that is real writing, Ann. I can’t even begin to bare my soul like you do. I think it would amplify the hurt for me if I did but I realize that for some, mainly those who write poetry, well maybe it’s like playing the bruise game. Y’know, press on a bruise and it hurts good. But to play it right, you have to close your eyes and have someone else do the pressing.
thank you, vickie!! it comes and goes. just go with it, if it’s there. if you have the words/feelings, don’t be afraid to dance with them. we’re all human. there is no risk, when the boundaries are stripped. i’m the first one in line judging my-self; nothing else can trump that.
This is the best yet. Seriously brought tears to my eyes, I feel it.
“exhaling sadly
waiting, lost
deaf in our”
This is another thing I love about your writing: the way you use breaks to suggest alternate words/meanings. I see “exhaling sadly, waiting lost, deaf in [an] hour.” I also like the way that your punctuation can be shifted around to create different meanings out of the same words: “exhaling, sadly waiting, lost, deaf in our ….” But what you’ve actually written is, I’m exhaling the “sadly waiting,” which is just beyond brilliant. Then taken with the previous stanza, it might say “my ghost—sweetly exhaling, sadly waiting, lost ….”
I love that you defy all grammar rules when writing but that I know with absolute certainty that you know how to write things correctly. You are breaking all the rules on purpose—like intentionally using the wrong parts of speech, the way you toss around adverbs when you of course need adjectives. It gives your writing such a unique, surreal quality.
My favorite section is from this line down, all the way to the end: “less than a mile away”
I see this as the crux of the poem:
“locked too tightly
by we never”
Rebel without a cause, baby girl. Defying defiance since 1974.