Eve Rounds

the right stiletto

if only i could brace myself
no i’m taken
aback every time it comes from the
back alley
and kicks me in the jaw
heel. first.
it had been a pleasant
extended estrangement
unconscious on my part.

ever ashen my heart knows how to heal itself
from the
rage.
too bulbous a word?
on some days.

the shock of its impact
almost almost just barely
greater than the
fury itself.
too hefty a word?
not on this day.

i selectively revisit the joy
“you” “gave” “me”
the far away family that became
mine

i manipulate the daily disappointments
illustrated by your epic scowl
morph them into
dark lessons of
time

i reimagine my selfless concavity
as “opportunity”
bow to the things that accumulated
along the way

but still
i hate you.
too savage a word?
i don’t care.

i don’t even know

how long it’s been. haven’t been counting days haven’t counted backwards on the calendar. haven’t bothered to reread my own words. haven’t been missing you

the five senses

your blue eyes and crooked lippy smile which i inherited that tiny soft bristle brush for your basically bald head the white corvette a campfire cards

love

what did falling in love feel like to you actual falling a new winter sweater a blood flutter did you question its science or were you

noise

sometimes the wind the waves muffle and drown my memories sometimes the wind the waves magnify and amplify the sound of your voice and clearing

the theatre

this is  a silent film flickering  catching  starting over emptiness surrounding such a blinding contrast ahead of us shared stories  captured images disconnected nonsensical we

Twins

It isn’t easy being a twin.   Others considered us as one two-part person,  while our parents saw,  in our conspiring, four or more.