Take Leave

You come in so close,
sweat, cigarettes,
booze tie me up
into unmoving flight,

choke off air
and words.

Your eyes pin me,
mind and body
go to war-one hand
on the doorknob,
one on the deadbolt.

Naming the Night Lights

Loren makes my latte, mentions weather.
I say I stand outside at 3 a.m., stare
overhead unsure of anything except the Big Dipper,
Orion’s Belt, my insomnia.

He says he looks
at the night sky, connects
his own dots,
names his own constellations.

I now find relief in the heavens
as the stars whirl by
in their seasonal arcs.
Ass Kicking Boot.
Calm Waters.
Happy Heart.