Even Though

I have seen my reflection
in the tarnished spoon that feeds the hungry universe
slowly so its never satisfied.

I know you better now
and even though I need you
need the way your spirit caresses mine
like two cats curled around each others skeletons
need you because you've stolen something that does not regenerate
like the clipped end of a chameleons tail
even though I need your breath mingling with mine in this cool autumn air that
feels like brushing fingertips with a phantom...
I don't like you at all.

Pictureless in Progress

(The Shutter Muse has been making excuses for not sharing her poetry... Crumpling them up and tossing them in the bin. In an effort to break this bad habit, some posts will be without pictures in an effort to get the creativity flowing. :])

So I'll try
to sift through the sordid details
like sand and gravel from the driveway of
my childhood apartment
stuck in my skinned knees.
and I'll try not to cut myself
on the glass shards from broken bottles
and neglected costume jewelry that collects on city streets.
And if I do get to the bottom
without bloody palms or pricked fingertips
will the loose ends become untangled?
Will they tie plainly into a bow
for you to pin in my tangled hair
to forget about
until you need reminding?