Chess
I don’t know
If I can
Tell you
The truth
We shift
Cold pieces
Towards
Each other
I need more
Allowance
For overnights
College stuff
With your bud’s
Firstborn
You slide
A story
Him caught
Side-glancing
At a bar’s
Urinal
Checkered
Silence
Pawned
Details
Castled
Crowns
Over
And over
I’m not over
Your need
For a different
Son
Chalk Art
Knowing this
Will be washed away
He persists in retracing
His memory:
Moon’s full watch
Unlidded by clouds
Bay’s huge waves’
Brash lunge
Seafoam tonguing
Crushing the stones.
His lover’s body
Conjured to fade
With the wooden
Passing of soles
So he scrapes chalk
Onto boardwalk.
Sweat soaks tangles
Of his hair
Dissolves dust lines
Cleanses wrinkled fingertips
While
I Loving him
Write this.
In the Garden
Bronze of Clare of Assisi by Trung Pham, S.J.
Clare’s right fingers
Graze the cloth
Touching her breasts,
The opposite ones
Petals that unravel
A hesitant palm.
Her left arm
Holds her waist
Preventing a fall
From forward desire.
Eyes closed, she
Savors bright air:
Growth of rosemary
In exchange intimate
With the world.