hold everything

"hold everything lightly and nothing will hurt us"
       Inadequacy: shards placed just so as not to
       stab but rather create small slivers the kind
       that sting when you ball your hands into fists
hold everything
       like letting go is the same as forgetting
       the slivers in your palms deeper and wider
       from gripping what has all but broken
lightly and nothing
       red rushing to the surface
       heat to the wounds, healing against your will
       what is numb from consistency and exposure
hold everything lightly for it may still hurt you
        like the ache of memory sutured with time gone
        arthritic from being recalled

personal earthquakes

the wares of time
       increments of fleeting and stalling
       entwined with momentum
                               forwardness - yours/someone else's
collecting seconds
a bank filled with too long glances
      distractions, near misses      
       saved up, hidden from
where times goes - the forgotten parts of it
                               painful moments shredded from memory
like pages ripped from a magazine
glossy and thin like promises
recycled with the inevitability of wanting to linger
      - and knowing better
time that, regardless of your participation, builds relentlessly upon itself.

moments: miniature enough to be survived

Red is glutenous
       like the rich velvet dessert my grandparents used to buy for special occasions.
       or the curtains that hang heavy on the stage collecting dust and sound, hiding readying          
performers from view.

Red is cliche
       like the roses stacked in the cooler of that old florists waiting to be de-thorned for less than minimum wage.
       or crimson stilettos, the right size for trying too hard or attracting the so-called "wrong attention."

Red is selfish
       the color of needless loss, breaking news, the shade of the web-banner on the website that reports your murder.
       of headlines, and midnight sirens. death, and other things that hurt.