aqua astrology

i am part of the ocean,

waves still scare me.

i am part of my mother,
she nearly drowned.

i am part of the divine,
self-loathing still abounds.

i fear, hate, and deluge myself.
i also influence the moods of the moon.


To Spring’s Return

The bluejay’s return relieves my soul’s winter.

Wary of me, he sings from a distance.

Home has not always been a sanctuary.

Last fall, our good-bye kiss was vampiric.


I don’t expect forgiveness or impact.

I only hope for your touch, time, space.

Stop fleeing or I’ll devolve to bluejay.

Implied condescension meant. You may fly,

but I’m sky in my lone universe spring.

Abandoned, I wail blush dogwood petals.


A tree without a forest, leaves unfurl.

Open, upward, plaintive palms begging note.

No visitors come, deep roots thin, brittle.

No connection, commune, family, flow.

I live as I gulp my solarĀ  savior.

Hands close, eyes shut, deaf to blue jay’s new call.

Blooming has proved more painful than hiding.


Breathless, I shrink sensing late petals,

the light tunnel beyond spring’s tepid fires.

death didn’t come

death came to my door early one morning.

grouchy, curious, and barely dressed, i greeted her

taking in her new gucci scarlet shrouds.

she kissed me full on the mouth.

she pressed hard and forced my lip’s cavern.

she inhaled my white gardenia deeply.

confused, i scratched my head.

i smiled, the movement disengaging.

i pulled away and explained her mistake.


“i keep my hair short, so my wigs fit better.”