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My brain is buzzing Tendrils of thought curling around Tentacles reaching into empty salt air Eight feet long, searching for a ship Anchored hard by a block of cement Dropped through the froth and foam Down to the liquid depths Right to the bottom of my heart Am I the ship, the sailor, the captain? Once I was the bottle of bubbly Broken over her bow in christening Shards of glass and froth and foam Was her name Rahab or Jezebel? No! It was Tamar, posing as a harlot To seek her revenge in betrayal A venture of misplaced efforts, Winding paths to nowhere and everywhere A hundred miles or ten, here and there Those tentacles gr

When I was a little girl, I had a red bike, and my sister Donna had a green bike. On hot summer days, we'd hop on our bikes with a group of our friends, and off we'd go down the road, rambling wherever. We were never looking for trouble, but we were always looking for adventure. The summer I was 8, Donna was 11, and we lived on a little dead end road near a golf course in Mobile, Alabama. I remember going out every day to collect stray golf balls. By some miracle they never hit our house! I got a big pickle jar, and we put golf balls in there until it was full. Then we took them and made a little roadside stand near the entrance to the golf

Imagine the world a place with no souls mountains of stone heaped but no roads, no traversable waterways only forsaken crops of dust tremendous piles of rubble sadness pervading, pervading sadness the absence of words under things, underlings scattered and abandoned putrid smells forgotten, replaced inside broken-down buildings desolate pews and pedestals woebegone ashes, the remains of past incomplete years, it seems time has stopped here, left behind cerise cracks where blood once washed honed solitude and silence from yesterday

The last time we danced was awkward and impromptu on a dirt patch at our new house just before we closed and moved I held your head in my hands swayed in your arms with no real rhythm there was no music playing It was an apology and a promise to you to only dance with you wherever we call home Then you held my hand and prayed with me kneeling before the door our palms against the wood We made a memory a night I will not forget tied another new knot that will never unravel

You say I'm not, but I am You just opened up the bottle Now I'll pour the champagne Wherever it falls Bubbles floating, glass broken Over a ship's bow that Never did anything to deserve it Pour myself out like water Into an ocean salty like tears A raindrop in a bucket

Can you honestly look at him his hair a mess his smile so inviting, promising his eyes so kind, pleading to please his heart so gentle his faith so strong, resolute his love for you so complete and find it in your heart to hurt him

You smell like family Like someone I used to know but forgot over the years And memories flood back Every time you walk by Cigarette in hand the very same brand and smell Mixed with perfume, or was it laundry detergent? Swirling around you with each step Reminding me of long division on the rusted metal steps And the way the grass clung to your legs when you cut grass in your bikini It was black with pink hibiscus flowers and green leaves and I always envied the way sweat clung to your brown skin mixed with tanning oil and grass clippings Swimming all afternoon in the backyard or bringing watermelons down t

At Mom’s and Dad’s after supper that night, Sarah and I were sitting on my bed in my old room talking and playing Gin Rummy. We usually hung out in her room because mine had become super storage zone with boxes in every corner since I moved out four years ago. I had a lot of money saved, and I finally decided at 25 to put it into a down payment on a small house for myself. I didn’t want to live with my parents forever (we were all driving each other batty), and I couldn’t spend the rest of my life sitting on my hands wishing my Prince Charming would come along. My only serious relationship had ended over a year ago, and I

I exited the bathroom wearing only two towels – one on my hair, like a turban, and one wrapped around me like a tube dress. Finn gasped and feigned shock, covering his eyes. I walked into my bedroom and put on some silky purple pajamas, put some leave-in conditioner in my hair and brushed through it. Then I went into the living room with Finn. He was watching NCIS, so I plopped down beside him. I sat there for a few minutes before I remembered that I was supposed to email my work schedule to Callahan, and I had never printed that convo from Gmail for him. I walked over to my new purse and pulled his card out. I booted up my computer an