a second death.

tide has obscured
the bagged body
black plastic swaying
in foaming salt and bile
among the rocks
caught numb and helpless
near the end of the pier
the frayed cord around
a powerless neck
hung in the current

© 6.10.13 heather brager

blessing. curse.

bulwark stops me dead.
solace seeks a certainty

stop,
         drop,
                     roll,
Repeat.

the truth.

he cannot
evade time
an insect to the light

          an insect to the light

with his words
he glares her in the eye
pinning her mind
to the wall
she struggles
to keep her
feet on the ground

the caustic breath
of fear hovers
and draws the
shades tight

she is forced to wear
a borrowed burqa
she is an orange bird
outside the
dusty glass


© 5.14.2013 heather brager 

genomes.

life is a journey
under seas and over cliffs
results are the same

© 5.6.2013 heather brager

a phase.

the moon is on surveillance

burning diamonds of pale
across my skin and sheets
and I cannot look away

“they think I am a soulless orb,”
she whispers in my ear

I dream she is a portal
and I ascend through glass,
finding my way back

© 4.26.2013 heather brager

still.

there is beauty, still
we will recognize a pattern
misplaced and returning, always

we create primary structures
from echoes at dusk
the clink of his fork on a plate
a glass held up to lamplight
or touching her thighs

we will collide
bending, and we will descend
waking again in the morning
mimicking and
cursing the dawn


© 4.5.2013 heather brager

I am solid stone
concrete depth and rolling free

you are Sisyphus