You’ll understand why I commented “If it were possible to get inside your brain as you write these pieces, I wouldn’t be able to finish my sentences. The passion with which you write, it’s beyond exciting, bordering on excruciating ecstasy. Someone hold me, I’m about to faint. I’m weak…” Enjoy! 😉
When they say someone is driven to distraction
can’t stop thinking about …
I imagine
a woman running in the rain
newspaper overhead, painted nails
pursed lips, the crook of a smile despite
her hose getting wet, soaking her clavicle, glistening like
some jewel in a torrent might
suddenly fruit
it reminds me of the first time I heard Suzanne Vega sing
not knowing she was singing for a woman
but something in the detail caught my eye
how she felt the same hot breath, steaming glass
lost bra strap, showing slip, untucked blouse
a stray hair, falling in her eyes, it took all of my
self possession not to reach across and brush it
back into place
although I’d rather press my face
into her neck and lose myself to the sound
of rain and tempests, growing inside me
wordlessly showing her the crocheted waves
with every brush stroke
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I Write Her 