and leaves at nearly the same moment. It’s what I want

to be in this moment, in this doorway,

because much as I’d love to be the silk shimmer

against the curve of anyone’s arm,

as brutal and impeccable as it’d be to soar

from a crossbow with a whistle and feel

a man switch off upon my arrival, it is nothing

compared to that moment when I eat the dark,

draw shadows in quick strokes across wall

and start a tongue counting

down to thunder. That counting that says,

I am this far. I am this close.

Paper Tiger to Wind

Paper Tiger to Wind

Come attack me then

here

in the stone garden

when no one

is watching.

No one

ever watches. My eyes

never

meet yours

and when they try

it is like turning to face a shadow

and as you’ve heard

of shadows

they turn

as we turn. Our dance darkens

into a cyclone

moving counter to clock

in sync

with Earth’s rotation.

As fluid.

As ceaseless.

That is when you will strike.

Won’t it be you

old friend

who finally comes

to tear through my lungs

and fling me out over the fields?

I’ve seen you crouched in trees

heard you

settle in the aching

branches of a cherry blossom

before scattering

its petals.

My angry-sweet wind

the waiting you stir

is a scent I have come to crave.

Macrophobia: Fear of Waiting

Macrophobia

Fear of Waiting

I love too many women is not the best lead-in

for a conversation that will end

with me telling you I love you

for the first time. And this might not be

the best first date topic. I know this,

but I know it the same way

twelve-year-old me knew the firecracker

in my hand would be a dull burst

lost in the grass if I let it go too soon—

I’m asking if you are like me.

Do you let go too soon? Are you afraid

more of having hands covered in ash

than you are of getting the timing wrong?

This is stupid, but I couldn’t wait

to tell you everything

about the stranger, who after pushing

a peppermint over my teeth with her tongue,

told me she never wanted to leave

the listening range of my rambling.

This meant a lot coming from a wanderer

who would never have to hear it again;

I was booked on a plane that had already boarded

when a voice calling my name over the PA

reminded me I could not afford to wait for a later flight,

and ever since, I’ve been wondering

what runway my hesitation will invoke next,

wondering if it was bad timing

to finally ask for the dance I promised

after you had already become a twirling body

and nervous hand spilling rum across

someone else’s shoes? I get it, you got sick

of your life standing like a loaded gun—