Ragout

You drink my words like hearty beef stew, but I receive the heartening benefits. I cannot overstate the profundity of your support on my soul and my smile. If we walked a hundred miles I would never tire with you by my side. You fuel my spirit and give me strength to fly, even though I have no wings. All the world is mine when I'm with you. In return, all of me is yours.

Bengal

I want to be that stalking feline, sexual and strong. I want to hunt down my own survival. I want to inspire fear and awe with my growl. I want to purr when I am content. Black and orange flash, fashionable, I wear like warning of my spirit, passionate and powerful. Weaned on wildness, I walk without shoes across the entire earth. They will call me fierce, and only you will know how true.

Helical

Slipper snakes, two, entwined, enlove, enjoy, the slithering feel of cool scales sliding over one another. Sensual sensation, slowly sneaking, snugly snitting into place, faces, ensnared en one another. There are sneaky ways of saying snail-like slumbering mumbles that will ensure ennocence. So eloquently enderstood entails enmagination.

Anti

There's nothing you can say to convince me, nothing that can change my mind and make me okay with the way you want to leave. It's a brutal thing to beg for someone's forgiveness for the end. But I'm not the girl people think I am, and I'm not the one I want to be, so I'll string together these senseless words and see what else will come.

Homolosine projection

Distortions are inevitable when you try to oversimplify, try to flatten the curves. Everyone is three-dimensional, so when they're put into words, how can justice be done? I look at the way I look at people, and I wonder when my eyesight got to be so bad. Suddenly it seems like everything's so dim, but maybe my pupils just haven't adjusted yet. I step into the elevator and push the button for the top floor. I'm determined to go up.

Mores

I hardly dare to venture into the twisted pathways of your mind. I fear getting lost, or worse, starting to agree. I don't want to know the way you work, I don't want to share your views. The rooted tree need not fly like the bird out of his nest. I am steady here, with the river running around me, giving me nourishment. You, you can take to the air by yourself. There is nothing but a fall below you.

Penguin

If you were mine, she used to say, everything would be different. I would smile each day, and I wouldn't hurt myself. You wouldn't have to give up a thing, and isn't that all you're really afraid of? But secrets don't stay kept frozen in the ice. When the sun comes out, the water melts, and your hands flow over my body like rivulets running down. Maybe that's all I am to you. Maybe that's all I was ever going to be.

Nook

Don't tell me I've read your priorities wrong, because we'll both know it's a lie. You've shoved me into this little nook with your old books and teddy bears. I can sit here quietly until you return, but the dust will gather and I may forget how to be all the things you want from me. As long as we're both aware of that probability, everything proceeds fairly from here.

Idem

Words on repeat like saved voicemails I used to listen to. Press a few buttons and I can pretend you never left. But the truth is that you never came, were never here with me at all. It was all a long, vivid, elaborate dream I had, and when I woke I wanted to believe. I see some of my friends sleeping like that now too. I don't know what to do for them, but maybe that's what I was meant to learn from you.

Ratables

They say a man is worth more than what he owns, but tell that to the guy with no shoes. His bare feet tread over hot asphalt and broken glass, they slip on your garbage, and they tiptoe around your property. He eats your leftover leftovers, and he drinks the rain from your gutter. The city overlooks him until he gets in their way. He waits for nothing because he'll never get his day.

Freshet

Tired. Need more. Don't know what. I am like stagnant salt awaiting a rush of fresh water. Like a stagnant dream waiting for sweet, quiet sleep.

Cansada. Necesito más. No sé qué. Soy como la sal estancada que espera para el agua fresco. Como el sueño estancado que espera para el descanso dulce y quieto.

Pricket

Candle wax dripping down the stem. Slow and sensual journey. Eres mi sueño. Eres mi amor. Whispered words in another language, but only in my head. Haunting echoes of another place. I forget that the forums here are the same, even if the snow chills my veins. Get off the Metro car, walk up the steps, and out into the summer sun. Madrid, eres mío. Me encanta, Madrid.

Lava

Eruption of hot red things on your skin, heat you up, work you up, feel you up. Can you sense the burn? Steam rising and that's not the only thing. Blood boiling because that's what you do to me. Soft as lace, feathery touch, miss you nights, dream all day long. Like lava, you melt me.

Duracell

Ask her what lasts forever and she'll tell you misery. Tell her to smile and she'll get it upside down. There isn't way to show the silver lining to a girl who's voluntarily colorblind. I'm letting go of that hand now. It's been weighing me down too long.

runcinate

cut your teeth on this, why don't you: i'm not ready for that yet. the world seems to be pushing me in a certain direction, and i've dug my heels in the ground, folded my arms, put my best pout on. it's all wrong and i'm the only one who seems to know. got so many ways to go-- why should i settle for what's already known? i'd rather walk right up to the edge of that cliff, take a deep breath, get blown by the wind. this is the adventure i've been waiting for. this is the freedom i've dreamed about. this is the shape of things to come.

crest

got this mark on my chest to show you who i am. it's a family thing, y'know? how many moles on my soft white skin? maybe you should count to find out. it's something i've always wondered myself, something i've always dreamed about. haven't been able to make it come true yet, but baby, you're promising. have i ever told you that? well, it's the truth. something scares me when i'm with you. something inside myself.

bedlam

it's a madhouse here in this place without. i miss. i love. everything reminds me of. are in every story. the scent of. the taste of. the way i look at. lying against. listening to. talking to. sleeping with. everything is in. are in me. i need. thank.

gyre

la giralda. half a world away. holding hands as they scale the almost endless ramp. holding breaths after they reach the top and look out over the city. seville. beautiful, hot. the dirty guadalquivir, but still a river with bridges and that special air that only comes from being skimmed over the surface of the water. the park, and the ferris wheel, and the sweat, and the dust. spinning slowly in their dreams. someplace to return.

old spice

signs of another time and place. fake marble floors, tile-lined sinks, crinkled wallpaper. she's seven years old, sitting on her father's bathroom counter, looking at herself in the mirror. will i be beautiful? she asks her reflection. will i be successful? she looks at the bottles of pills, the mouthwash, the stick of old spice with its familiar red label. she doesn't know that that's the world she is inheriting. she doesn't understand the normality, the precious normality of regular life. instead she dreams of camera flashes and red carpets and limosines. all these things she hears about and thinks that she will need.

niveous

cream-colored petals drift slowly down to earth. lingering on her fingertips, the trace of your skin. she closes her eyes to listen to you breathe. she inhales your scent with the cold, snow-laden air. this is not the death that everyone laments. this is the rebirth of an angel at your feet. this is the way innocence is regained. this is the new life and the promise she sees behind your eyelashes.

Hanuman

mischievous little god, monkeying around. in her hair, between her thighs, got her wound up every way. chirping, peeping, grinning, winking, got her wound up every day. she thinks about him as she falls asleep, she thinks about him as she wakes. he whispers jokes into her ear and then he runs away. it's not a cruel love he's selling her, he's just not meant to stay.

Ivory

something pure and white, never to be recovered. tough as nails, but that's not quite tough enough. she cries softly and i don't even offer my shoulder. not until it's too late. but all i want to do is protect her. all i want is the best. i try to smile and spread some cheer, but the red hot fangs burn my mouth and all that comes out is smoke and fire. i've been there before, and i know that's not how it's supposed to be. i want her to come to the other side with me. but i guess i have to be patient and wait for her to see. for herself. that's the only way it can be.

Signalize

A life made remarkable not by its accomplishment but by its depth of feeling and thought. Can you be unknown and still a hero? Maybe the people most worthwhile aren't the ones we hear about on TV or read about in the papers. Maybe it's not enough to sell yourself; maybe you have to have substance too. I look in the mirror and it's not my reflection that I see. It's hers. It's theirs. I know what they want me to be, and it's not even all that I'm capable of. I will not let them, or anyone down. Not even myself.

Cheer

Smile on his face at the end of the day. Knowing he won't have to wait forever. Patience is the hardest thing to keep in perspective. Bed made, bathroom cluttered. This home is lived in, this love is shared. The warm smell of food, the sound of a Christmas tune. Not quite everything, yet, but enough for now. Enough for a smile on his face at the end of the day.

Trowel

Digging holes into the dirt. Gotta find what I'm looking for. Buried treasure: a heart, a kiss. Three words in either language. Don't mind getting a little dirty to get what I want. Plant a few seeds, see what springs up. Patience was never my strongest suit, but I'm learning, I'm trying, and so far my efforts have been rewarded.

Rialto

A night out on the town, glittering lights, painted lips, shining eyes. We race over the rain-slicked streets, cobbled stones, horse-drawn carriages passing by. My heels click, and your jacket flaps in the wind. My hair and your skin smell so good. My laugh ignites from your fire. My stomach melts away. This is every dream I've ever had. You make fantasies come true.

Gnosis

They say there's so much we don't know, but we already know that. Can't they see we're following our stars? Maybe we won't get by on gut alone, but there's a lot to be said for intuition. That voice in the wind directs me which way to turn, and my heart obeys without hesitation. This is the knowledge that I think counts. This is the wisdom my spirit holds.

Pepto bismol

Childhood memory of pink bottle by the sink. Small bathroom. Smiling faces in the fogged up mirror. We are happy now, here, frozen in this time. Nothing unsettling about a memory enclosed in a bubble. This is the way people protect the past, and protect themselves from it. This is the thick syrup that takes away pain. Clean it up and serve it cold. Best way to grow old.

Olay

Skin like clay, mold it beneath your hands, melt it in the kiln of your mouth, smooth it with your tongue. Rough taste, rough texture. Smell the raw art that breathes for you. Take it in. Pleasure and pain meld as one and moan each other's names.

Ludic

Some people dream only with eyes closed. The better play is to let the world be your fantasy and to take part, take charge, make change. Every day is an opportunity. Every smile is gold. Some people dream only with eyes closed, and some people don't need to dream at all.

Uxorial

Duty-bound. Shackled 'round her small bare ankles. Not everything is so literal. Her slavery isn't on paper. Her master doesn't wield a whip. (Unless they're in the bedroom.) His face is those of all men who came before -- he looks just like his father. Her face is bland, and her eyes are wide and tearful, like all the victims who came before. This sacred institution is a sham. There's no democracy here. 100 years later, the story will be different, but these fields, those walls, will never forget what they saw.

Quay

She stands on the end of the pier and looks out over the dried up seabed. The wind pulls at her hair and scratches at her face, but she takes it, she doesn't flinch, she doesn't turn away. Tears sting her already swollen eyes. She does not blink. They fall, drop by drop, rolling down her cheek, as she stares off in a sorrowful stupor. For days and days she stays there, waiting, hoping. But no one comes. Finally she is jolted awake by a rush of water washing over her toes. She looks down, then back up at the seabed. It is no longer dry. It is overflowing.

Realizing what has happened, she wipes her eyes and turns and walks away. She is done here.

Dolce

She walked home in the dark. Only her feet were bare, but she felt totally naked. The full moon shone high overhead, and the stars glistened in the sky like the tears in her eyes. She tried to keep her chin up, but she was cold and tired and scared, and she shivered with the wind.

What she really wanted was to be safe in the arms of someone she loved. She wanted to hear sweet, soft words of reassurance whispered into her ear. She wanted gentle kisses to cover her skin and make her warm once again.

Instead she walked home in the dark, feeling naked and alone.

Always

In circles there is no beginning and no end; only an edge. With a sphere, there isn't even that. This is how I think of time. Always, we have been. Always, we will be. Always the world and the stars and the water and the skies. Always the ash and the trees. Always the stamp of your lips on my skin, and always the puff of cold breath in the air. Always the peal of children's laughter, and always the tears of a broken heart. Nothing comes or goes; things only move along the infinite paths of the surface of the orb. Back and forth, but never beginning or end. Only always.

Secret

I cannot think of what to say. There's nothing you don't know. All the things I thought I could never speak, you've already heard. My mind is empty, my words are free. I'm trying to learn from those around me. I want to hold myself to the light and see right through. I want to carry my past and my head up high. Holding your hand, I feel capable of anything.

Sweet gum

The sweet gum trace laced taste of your mouth lingering fingering tingling down to the bone hard strong nothing wrong with feeling the pulse hum come drumbeat sounding pounding skin slide in against and all the rest just fades away. Let it fade away.

Animatic

There is no dry run for this, no first try, no practice test. Everything is go, go, go, and every instinct is no, no, no. Play it safe, play it cool, but maybe you just gotta dive into the pool. Not everything's gonna work out your way, but you have to trust that it's all for the best.

Obtund

The black and white turns to vivid hues and the sun soaks up my past life's blues. This is the time that will set me free. These are the days I will never lose, never forget. These soft smiles and these warm nights. I don't need to say maybe tomorrow anymore, because I'm living today.

Cover girl

She stares at her reflection and wonders, Will it ever be? Blonde hair, blue eyes, long legs, full lips? Her dreams are drawn by the loins of other men, and yet she dreams them all the same. She doesn't yet know that her pencil hips and her tabletop chest will grow on their own, that her body will take its predetermined shape, that someday someone will love her--truly love her--not for looking like the cover of a magazine, but for being three-dimensional, curvy, real. These truths are all still hidden from her young and eager eyes. So she bats her lashes and blows kisses at the mirror, practicing for the nonexistent fool's fantasy that she'll gladly never lead.

Patroclinous

Can we rise above the sins we inherit? Are we doomed to repeat the same mistakes? We aren't always more than the sum of our parts, no matter how hard we try. But maybe that's why he fascinates her: he's the egg, the invisible man. He dropped down from the sky and was embraced by the earth and the sea. She is persephone, deeply rooted like a tree. The two met, and they kissed, and now they share stolen glances and fingertips. They're hanging in, hanging on to each other. Maybe that's how they'll overcome.

Polyhistor

He was a wizard, of sorts. A snake-charmer, and she was a python. He knew all the right words to say, all the right moves to make, all the right chances to take. Kept her on edge so she never caught his drift. But there was nothing to back up his Don Juan bravado. All breadth but no depth. The shallow end of a kiddie pool. He amounted to nothing more than a phony sideshow gypsy, telling her everything she wanted to hear, then leaving her to move on to the next town.

Variegate

I try to keep things interesting, to be different, to change myself up every now and then. I am not white, or yellow, or blue, or green. Not always, anyway. I am a chameleon, a kitten, a stallion, a dodo. I reinvent my age and my name and my dreams. I don't want to be pigeon-holed, I don't want to get stuck. I'm more of a homebody than I care to admit, but my bohemian spirit roams free everywhere. The only thing I know for sure is that I only know a given moment of myself. I am ephemeral. That is permanent.

Ripsnorter

I like to sugarcoat people. I make all sorts of excuses for them. I smile and nod, I grin and bear, I let them get me, wear me, tear me. Does that make me good, or strong, or patient? Maybe. But maybe it just makes me a fool. Sometimes I lean more to one side or the other, but after nights like this, I can't help wanting to stop. Wanting to drop these deadweights that burden my soul, that make me not whole, that borrow and never return. Even as I write those words, though, I konw they are slanted. Like peeking through blinds, I take in the sun, and I know tomorrow they'll be open again.

Hypotenuse

Who is which: right angle or hypotenuse? Free spirit, or square? Maybe this is a more fluid shape; maybe these roles are shared. The rise and fall of soft hemispheres; the growth of an obelisk. The fitting of peg into hole; child's play, nature's game. I am not ashamed of anything. I just want you near.

Exorbitance

Her love is exorbitance. Her foolish hope is sin. The stars taken what she gaveth away: her hidden dreams, her unspoken motives, her innocence. She holds now sympathy, but no respect, like clay to mold while the sand slipped through her fingers. This cannot keep her warm at night, nor protect her from her fright. So she drops her chin and sobs for more. Unfortunately, she must wait. That is her penance.

Leviathan

Engulfed. Overwhelmed. Leviathan in the water. Tidal waves carrying foam across the body, onto the shore. Everything returns to this. Symbols coding the future. Words in another language dictating how to live. Heed not them, but your own inner voice. Kill the beast. Set yourself free.

Millstone

She can shoulder her own weight. She can take them all on, and she does. She believes in the nothing that envelops her when she sleeps. She can't remember anything before this grey could. Her bones are crumbling beneath the burden she doesn't realize she builds each and every day from her own grief and denial. Her flesh is evaporating away with her tears. Her spirit has flown, but it wants to come home. What can be done? Only time will tell.

Era

The end. The beginning. No one ever talks about the middle. The settling. The rush you get even when there's nothing new and nothing old. I call it the Golden Age. The time when I know what I've got and I feel invincible. Secure. Hopeful. Realistic. Not jaded, but not so jumpy that I can't get ahold of myself. There's something beautiful about the sun at high noon, even though everyone seems to be holding their breath for dawn and dusk. Well me, I'm breathing in and out.

Charming

They say he's the best, but she knows better. She sees through the lies and the smiles and the charming words. She isn't fooled, but she is drawn. Like lines on a page, smudges underneath the artist's finger, she blurs. Her judgment falters like a Monet upon close inspection: mistaken colors, loss of form, a sense of madness. Head and heart are never in sync, and she's sure that that's a bad thing. But what's a girl to do when she's young and never made this misstep before? She's gotta fall. And fall she did.