When has beauty ever come
when called? My hands beg
and beckon, but conjuration
requires complexity, effort,
the right shapes constructed
with fingers, ink & insight.
Maybe it's different with leather.
Maybe function, not loveliness, is
a better measure of such craft,
but I've witnessed your talent,
seen how beauty & faculty blend
seamlessly in each masterpiece.
So what then might be effortless
but your movement or, sometimes,
our silence.
For my friend on the occasion of her wedding. What I know of mirrors is their imperfection, their imbalance of mathematics: one reflects one, & we imagine this is wholeness & we believe we know oursel
For my friend on the occasion of his wedding. No eye for art, you said, and turned toward Hunger, livid color leaving you cold, neither keen, nor compelling, not enough, not when you already know how
It is not Death that watches us with suspicion, yet you invoke Her name anyway, make of Her a boundary, make of me an earthen intimacy. There is no revelry in roots no matter how deep they run, only f