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.