Tagged: cry

not crying in the

not crying in the
shower because it’s cliché
allows for half a
dozen other options,
like turning the valve
all the way to the
right until the heart
clinches, or turning
it fully left until
conviction melts.
then there’s always
the option of turning
it off – some people
consider crying
in the shower,
while others
stand in long lines
waiting to fill their pails


it’s 4:10 a.m.,

it’s 4:10 a.m.,
and vivienne doesn’t like
the end of daylight
savings and everything her
tiny body knows about
the way we force time
to flex arbitrarily.
her lungs are still puncturing
the darkness of 5:10 a.m.
as we practice wading
backwards through the
minutes until someone
can pick her up
from her cradle,
rock the additional
hour soothingly
into a new slumber

vivienne, you are

vivienne, you are
exercising those powerful
lungs from the second

floor, ready for a lifetime
of song and dance, some shrieking

before she becomes

before she becomes
fully human, Vivienne can
break up time in the

middle of the night – in cries, in
song, penetrating walls and dreams

the middle

the middle
of the night
so stealthily,
there is little
room for
protest, just
a sudden
birth to
and the first
cry we are
left sharing

i am a secret

i am a secret
collapsible concept
this week – now you
see me, now you
don’t. i get into
bed each night
knowing that
i will suck
the air out of
myself until i lose.
by morning, the same
doubts produce
their sharpened
instruments just beneath
the lids and start
drilling against
the fresh
flesh, nothing different
to report. it has been
a week. but i haven’t
cried today, i
haven’t cried today