Swizzle sticks,

Guitar picks,

& things made out of plastic.

Happen quick,

& seldom stick—

Then get lost in traffic.

I’ll go with Gold,

& all things Bold,

Made for ever-lasting.

But never mold,

Catching cold, or

“Crocodiles, when fasting.”

So swim with me

Upon the Sea

Of dreamy ice-capped waters.

Let’s splish & splash,

Dish & dash,

Like happy seals & otters.

We’ll flaunt about,

"Twist & Shout,"

To music from the Sixties.

In tie-dyed shirts

With flair & skirts

Like pseudo-nomad Gypsies!

The voice arose under my head

         As I reclined on top my bed

    "You aren't the only one he wed!"

  My face turned angry shades of red

         Before the morn he will be dead!

a steel ladder in the rain —

you, eating chowder by the kitchen window, saying,

i'll take the kids out when the rain lets up.

and i slip my arms around your waist,

kissing the back of your neck

between your collar and your hairline.

i liked you better without your clothes on.

the rain beats out a sonnet

on the glass panes, on the clapboard roof,

and you turn in my arms, you smile at me.

footsteps in the stairwell —

i have eyes in the back of my head,

but no voice. no voice to stem the silence.

you say,

is it time now? is it time yet, love?

and i don't know what you're asking.

should i be waiting?

the soft rain wears down the edges

of this photo frame, this moment in time;

your voice fills in the colours;

my hands hold the rest together.

a grandfather clock in the hall chimes six,

and you say,

you weren't ready.

you must have changed your  mind.

a sudden flash of fear —

lightning on the heels of thunder —

the reproach in your eyes as my hand slips

out of your sweater.

then your hair is damp with rain,

and your lashes, your cheeks, your lips;

there are no footsteps in the stairwell.

there is no sound when i speak.

but you say it, everything i didn't:

did you feel the time? did you feel it changing?

the past has gone away with you,

and it's different now.

it will never stop raining.

I guess that

The reason

I'm so quiet

Is because

I'm waiting

To wake up.

This is just

A dream,

I'm sure of it.

It's too good

To be true.

There's no way

You're still

In love with me.

Will you be mine?

How many times have you said that

Do you throw away all that you call yours

Or were they never yours

Did you write your name

Like a child upon a desk

That will never be theirs

And that youll never claim

Be my valentine

Why

So you can add my name to the list

Youve been writing since you were five

Jessie day

1st grade with the pretty eyes

Lana smith

5th grade with her pretty hair ties

And me

Just me

What number am i?

23?