Driving to you.

I tried to fill the coffee cup
but your hands
pushed my change away

with the nighttime silence
that is smothered
by your breathing pattern

I carefully crept over
creaking floorboards

I tried to offer
some direction across
but you would rather use
your own lost map

so with the sun in my eyes
I drove east and again
the western heat's arrest

I tried to picture the way
in memories stored
little by little coming to a stop

but I have never been
down this paved road
or in this room before

© Heather Brager 7.27.2010

Exhaling.

there is view from outside of his bolted door
as he hunkers down quietly in the corner in a chair
a smoke and a drink and medium inundations
to temper the vibration from inside his skull
to soften the struggle of all he let go
there is a draft seeping out from under the door
and a hum of the fan from above pushing down
as he wonders if this moment is all that he is
connecting, retreating, creeping out from within
to temper the hope from inside of his cells
to soften the edges of a life come undone

(c) Heather Brager July 2010

Buried.

blind leading the blind
lightning cuts through the darkness
lost beneath the clouds

(c) heather brager 7.12.10

The Mind's Eye.

her irises smolder
through the fabric
of your t-shirt
tracing the dip of your triceps
and their unintentional flex
skimming over the past
in fading images of ink
her eyes follow
the rise of your chest
and they know the inside
as they stroke the angled line
of your clenched jaw
her gaze always sees
what is just beyond

diminutive is
the falsified stature
slithering on an underbelly
sliced open wide

not so wise are the eyes
that search deep within
lost on expectations
calculated rapidly
by probable lies

(c) Heather Brager 7.5.10

Defy.

when flesh is enough
words outside of the body
will they find their way




(c) Heather Brager 6.23.2010

One night.

sound slides through
the unoccupied atmosphere
a possibility murmurs
its vexing blend of tantalization
and all at once
mingles effortlessly amid smoke and sex
their separated psyches are far ahead
of fears left abandoned
there is syncopated rhythm
in their fibrous simplicity
between resolve and ache
and issues of human trust
the story of two bodies
and minds divided right and left

the horizon lies sediment down
at eighty miles per hour
leaning on remnants
pushing away the feckless ones
and all at once
one night is another
pallid and layered sunrise
belting out every lost direction
in the voice of Nina Simone


(c) Heather Brager 6.13.2010

White noise.

when the echoes end
and warmth is enough to hold
thought wrapped in the sheets

talking in your sleep
the ceiling fan is humming
warning of daybreak

tenderness begins
it's all part of the same thing
outside of our terms

(c) Heather Brager 6.2.2010