Maybe I'm a cell phone failure

But

I will not spit my words into

a tinny tiny box and have them collapse

into digital impulses that ricochet

through your aural cavity, leap your

synapses, strain your neural connections,

and end up forgotten

when a simple smile and wink

will define every inchoate bleat

issuing from my mouth.

Calla Lilies

When he walked into the room
and saw, on the bed, her still body,
shrouded under crimson covers,
her head buried in the pit
of the calla lily pillow she loved
to grow her dreams on,
his heart stalled. Kneeling,
he brought a hand to her hair,
and traced the strands
with his fingertips, as if that act
might bring her back into his world.
He leaned in to smooth the skin
of his cheek against hers, felt
her breath warm the narrowing space
between them, and he was revived.