Monsoon

Wet, you.

Oppressive, you.
Humid, you.

The smell,

…you.

BFM

Best Wishes

I wish you could see me. Now.

But you never did, I wasn’t metric enough;

too weighty on the air side.

B.F.M.

Near-Sighted

My eyes see you 

inches from me

my heart feels

you’re

a marathon away.

B.F.M.

When to Bluff

My love, we’ve become an ordinary poker hand, 

a pair of threes thinking we were a flush.

B.F.M.

Cistern

Cut glass distorts your eyes and my seeing. We continue on, as if the cistern hadn't been rotated and filled with ice. We practiced — okay and fine; two amateur ping pong players in a polite warmup.

B.F.M.

The Fair

Over and over we rode the the Tunnel of Love, Tilt a Whirl, The Flying Dutchman.

Ate pussy and cock like pink and blue cotton candy, pretending it was nourishment. 

Looked into each other's eyes until they turned drab-empty. Smiled, like we were still having the time of our life.

B.F.M.

Not Me

Who’d a thought

a broken down mule

would find a home

in tender arms?

B.F.M.

Misunderstandings

Air, heavy as language 
carved from a quarry
falling on a big toe.

You walk away.

B.F.M.

Relationship 4

Accelerating while
stepping on the brakes.

B.F.M.

She, Him, Them, It

Doubt: An anchor that drags across their sandy bottom towards a shoreline cliff.

B.F.M.

Rearranging Rooms

I watched two robins discuss the placement of a particular piece of blue yarn.

He thought it better inside than out. She thought it better lost than found.

B.F.M.

Shards

After I kissed you good-bye,

I made my ritual strong coffee, 

watched the sun crest the ridge,

watched her define clear cut 

but empty shadows.

Shattered ceramic shards

cut at my feet.

I cried over each fragment:

the handle’s curve in twos,

the bottom’s foundation in fours,

the walls that held in eights.

Bloodied, I did what I could, 

I got up did 
laundry, sorting, hurting.

B.F.M.

Love Poem 22,314

Mosquito bastard
loitering, piercing,
diseased, delirious.
Love.

B.F.M

Lover's Call

Caught off guard
she calls my name 
like an office mate
needing a paperclip.

B.F.M.