inhale.

I am patient like

a sledgehammer swinging back

down to meet your skin

sometimes there is a doorway (or... everything is an equation, and she still sucks at math)

you signed up for this elective
though now antithetical
you cannot walk away
for there are annotations
inscribed from inside your skull
you have twisted to turn
your body inside out
chosen some beauty other
than a shallow figment
which is certainly not a composition
of the wayward, or provisional
be careful what you wish for
echoes from inside your chest

*

and her spell is on your hands
imprints of formulaic patterns
on your chest and back
fragments of an ancient system flowing
down your limbs, and your variables
scattered within her hair
of course it would be simple
if she had not written this equation
and you had not been divisible by two
though alchemy cannot be properly defined
and wisdom is the outlier

© 9.29.2016 heather brager

desire is more powerful than dependence.

the road does not end

a hemorrhaging pause held in

hesitation, over your shoulder

stolen time is arresting the broken

and the apparition just swallowed

every unspoken word

© 9.27.2016 heather brager

slate.

we are of the same delicate

and brazen soul

hatched on this plane, assigned 

to wander the landscape as

silhouettes before dawn 

longing for more

we are lost and asked 

to be found 

and you smell like perfect

harmony, the chords 

you hum bind me to your bed

return me to that 

Monday, every day

I still cannot bring myself 

to wash my clothes 

I can see you clearly

pleading to be 

healed, begging to be 

heard, though shaman 

to shaman, you must

know already the rituals

and stereotypes we 

supplant, yet

I am still on the other side  

it is not by chance, or 

happenstance that we stood

hovering above time a 

soundtrack already chosen

if you would just open 

your hands to let me in 

symbiosis.

we both knew I wasn’t enough

but how do you tell the dog to stop barking

the past to stop sneaking around the corner

studying us through the open door

how do you toss the key out the window

and leave that beauty standing alone

while you drive out past the pond

your windows down, half of a moon

reflecting in the dark glass

how do you leave with longing

screaming in your head

knowing the clock is a filthy liar

how do you not comprehend

that merciful gift

that arrived on your back doorstep

disguising itself as something tender

how do you pass time with ideal comfort

and still abandon all of your reason

© 9.22.2016 heather brager

pessimism in the morning.

if I knew where this was going

we’d most likely

be well on our way

banking certainties, and documenting

our movements in poetry,

but I let you

fold me up in your back pocket

crushed, and often

retstrained underneath the weight

unable to effectively breathe

until you start moving again

if I didn’t have

all of these unnecessary and

silly expectations

no one would ever disappoint me

we’d just be swimming

in synchronistic formations,

humming murmurations on the wind

never quite colliding

maybe we would be choosing 
coordinating patterns

for serving dishes and flatware,

and naming the family pet

© 9.19.2016 heather brager

9.16.16

the wolf, or the girl

the moon is pulling my hair

dusk, an enigma

© 9.16.2016 heather brager

the point is.

memory

heaves an echo

through a vacant ravine

years of compounded intellect

the aching wounds that you could not heal

moments she climbed inside through your eyes

flashes of sanity that paralyzed your progress

and you digress and exhale

weary for medicine

and softness

© 9.15.2016 heather brager

so we meet again.

they are wont for regret

each futile entry, a

notch for ignition,

each commencement

ditched, the fatal twist

anywhere, the neck

the back, or the gut

cafuné or bust, just

turn to black, blue, or

synchronistic nihilism

 © 9.14.2016 heather brager

happiness, or insanity

when failing hopelessly meant nothing

trudging back again through

death and the human condition

you had no option but to ascend

from dust, brushing away the

remnants of the aftermath

bending and leaning into the wind

amending your purpose, line after line

with an inkless ball point pen

your wavering words, invisible signatures

when intricate eyes pounced on your

every word, feeling you up and down

before swallowing your solitude

teeth on your neck, and breath on your belly

you had no option but to ascend

beyond despair, rubbing in the  

remnants of velvety coincidence

handing over your key, dismissing

pain and circumstance

with a hesitant lexis, cosmically aligned

© 9.7.2016 heather brager