Mansions on the hill court order, make
unwelcome advances, fall back in flames.
Always in the wrong room at the house party,
friends later ask, where did Stephen even get a monkey?
Somewhere there is a rubicon
marked by a cross, or crossed by a mark.
Injury reports bodily foreshortened,
out with a leg, but never the break.
Mood oscillations sync perfectly with awareness
of your existence, but wait that’s not fair.
My love waits for you like a dog on a work day,
perpetually poised, surprises in your shoes.
Love is easy in the coming,
but going — that leaves claw marks.
In dreams of flight I miss connections, wind up sitting
alone by the ocean, out with a heart.