where
do I begin
along these empty lines
to unfold the days
lay them out on the desk
in carefully crafted phrases
wind them in delicate circles
around my body
tucked into a thousand pieces of paper
waiting for the north wind
to catch them through the window
beginning
with hope
laughter
in the fresh crisp air
days stretch over rooftops
long lines left by sunsets 
and shadows
waiting for the sky 
to change
dust collects on shelves
decades old
while I sit in the half light
listening 
to whispers 
and heart beats
holding joy 
before it fades
~

lei fraser 2021

turn the dial
as the sun passes
the window
orange glow
soup heats on the stove
I stretch my arms
to wrap around
the empty space
empty embrace
before me
fluorescent light 
distorts my reflection
lines point
in different directions
around the eyes
don't know where to look
to find the truth
which line to step along
or trace
night creeps up
onto the windowsill
perched just outside
looking in

~

la 2021

lines on the page
drawn with a careful hand
outlines move
in slow curves
to the centre
crossing over
in unexpected intersections

blank pages slowly fill
colour pulled by sunlight
sneaking through cracks

we are okay alone
living
in the corners of our soul
but
together is better
when the lines meet
before 
continuing
on

~ 
la 2021

your voice falls
over me
like honey
from a spoon
held high enough
to slip down 
to cover
to soothe 
to calm
me

I breathe
again
for the first time
not realizing
I had held my breath
for years

breath comes
dressed in laughter
in tears
in healing
in freedom

an unintended gift
perhaps
not understood
it does not matter
now that the cage door
is open
I stretch beyond
what I bowed to
and gather 
torn pieces
in my arms
ready
to
fly

~

la 2020

the pause after the end
leaning into another beginning

that place
I want
need
to step into it

fold my body
fold my heart
fold myself
to curl around you 
to hold you close
to me
and be held
beyond the edge
of myself

but
like a thousand steel needles
I fear
if I close my eyes
I am lost
alone 
bound and torn
into slim ribbons
of existence

I hold myself out
to where dreams thrive
and follow me
like music
through the trees
ask for nothing
in return

just a pause
before 
~

la 2020

I have let these threads
weave between us
in loose and fragile patterns
that complicates itself
in the futility of existence

I go
and return
to you

as the sun passes the window
pulling light into corners
where it has not 
touched
yet
before leaving
again

I wake
and sleep
not moving 
in this isolation
allowing
what needs 
to
be

I have let these threads
weave between us
in loose and fragile patterns

I have let these threads
remain

~
la 2020

I have not loved you
in the first 18,471 days
I have known you
not once

I have not felt 
a tenderness 
towards you
or felt compassion
in seeing your reflection
or cared for you
before another
not once

I have not walked
through my soul's estate
wondering what I
could do to care
for you more

but now, 
here we are
in conversation
for the first time

~

la 2020

one hundred 
and eighty two days
blurred together
like paint smeared on canvas
like a photograph 
left too long in the sun
like gibberish dreams 
that fill the night
nothing makes sense
silence binds isolation 
with threads
left dangling, untended
to knot in the early fall winds
introspection 
dances on the edge
with uncertainty
avoidance brings inspection
and distraction by the hand
but I... 
I sit with you, love
and wonder
what you
will teach
me

~

la 2020

crowded together
pressed against mind's edge
empty and faceless 
peer over the railing
above the page

pushed against
each other 
they perch to leap
first
land
unscathed
between the lines
reaching outward
towards
where my head lies
on the desk
resting
and tiptoe
onto my outstretched hand

~
la 2020