101

What she learned in school was
it’s all about the lighting.
Sometimes he saved her and
sometimes she stayed up late at night,
sewing the splinters
back together by candlelight.
Some days it was macaroni for lunch and
she cried, under the spotlight
there was only black and white.

Art

Some days she had control issues.
she wanted to create him, she wanted
to sculpt his eyebrows and touch his lips with
pastels and rearrange the wild windiness of his hair.

for Amanda

On the day of your mother’s funeral
I sat staring at the ribs of the church,
arching wooden grace that spoke of things
higher than us.
Some days you cannot get warm.
The tears freeze on your cheeks, your lips
tremble blue, your toes are white.
Looking up and away from you
I found hallelujah in the curve of the ceiling,
the space, the air and her heart
contained in smooth wood.

In the Fiction Aisle

One day browsing in the bookstore
I came across your heart,
misplaced, slightly squashed but still
fully intact.