something in the way

the moon shifts
in slices
filtered
through blinds
across the bedroom
darkness
like muted fingers
more shadow
than light

remember
the moon is full
outside

you just can't see
from here

trying to be careful

monarch butterflies are dying.
the radio said so
as I merged onto M-14,
the air pregnant with rain
that will not birth.

absence manifests
in me like pavement
wet with mirage.

I can feel
it in my palms,
secret-heavy.

loss is ours.
we must fill
the emptiness,
I know.

but what
replaces
butterflies?

narcotic

this painkiller killed

my grandmother.

my mother said this.

(I had already 

swallowed.)

do we ever choose?

the stranger

like a nun without
her habit
at the market
no one notices
nakedness
comes from inside

who will know me
I don't know myself anymore
she said

elephants are not invisible

it's not the elephant in the living room.
elephants are not so unusual.

we shovel shit
like we take out the trash
in blurry morning darkness
so the neighbors don't hear
bottles clink.

we try to keep
clean.

but we've seen others.
elephants peaking from under
afghans, coffee tables, hidden
behind art ---
we are many:

it's not the elephant in the living room.
it's that you want to keep him.

I saved the best for me

nights he came
like disease
inside me

I saved something
where no one could reach

yes,
fathers fail
and friends leave

but I laugh
whenever
I want now:

the best of me
you have never
even seen.

we can be poor

I never asked
for roses

just a bit of earth
somewhere
to plant a family

with memories
of nothing
but fake
flowers

I don't need blossoms
to know

roots
are growing
between us