SAnneM

An Elegy for My Sister Hannah Marie Manning (A beautiful soul, forever adored and missed: September 10, 1992, to December 12, 2012) I wish that I could see you/ Turn and run to play/ Dreams are fading Carry my ancient soul/ Carry me into the light/ Aim your body heavenly /Enduring a memory I'll come to your light/ Hold your light… Eleven/ Lead me through each gentle step, by step By inch by loaded memory, I'll move to heal/ As soon as pain allows so we can Reunite and both move on together. Hold your light, Eleven. Lead me through each gentle step, by step/ By inch by loaded memory until/ One and one are one. Eleven… ~“Jimmy” by Tool We were born 19 months apart Out of the same portal That is our Mother’s womb When you died at the age of 19 A part of me died with you. 11:11 was special to us It would pop up on the clock And you’d always say, Make a Wish! The walking dead who loved you Spent winter days of dense gray Dissociating in style With shots of Jameson Thick clouds

The Charming Man of Loneliness Marriage is like a box of melted crayons. In the crayon box of love, things get sticky when you set out Just to fill the void. Reminds me of when My parents Mike and Annie tied the knot one year After Meeting at Sparks Christian Bookstore. Dust and wax, a firmness with cracks. The smell of my parents old Subaru, crayons & leather I can taste the white Instruments of creation left out in the sun, stuck In between the seats, crumpled up next to the stale Burger king wrappers. Burgers, taste like the brown and green ones. The charming man of loneliness Relieved his emptiness in delicate pages Thumbed open in his Bible. All too quickly between the sheets. After vows were read with an even lonelier woman. She would never moan. Loneliness doesn’t speak this language. If you read backwards, you’ll know the beginning. Father promised things, he’d never be able to deliver. Hell, he’d deliver things he promised. Home was a place, as rough as the words

Praise Be to My Pleasure At the Billiard’s Lounge Our game was merely an interlude I lost two rounds to him Winning another two In the parking lot outside In the backseat Of his white Jeep. Knees grazed floor Hands cradled skull Running my fingers Through his soft brown curls His smile mirrored mine As blood rushed straight to the sweet spot. Swelling, opening To this stranger, gentle touch Like a healing salve His kisses softened each one Of my invisible scars. Our eyes seductively Locked together Breathing heavily The waters of my womb rose Before crashing from In between My thighs. It was a holy moment Christening us both In a baptism Of sacred fluids Temples glistened of sweat. I sat in a therapist's office For over two years Notating pain on blotted paper. The indentation of my ass Left on a pleather couch Where I confessed To the sins of men Who had forced upon me Their hands Their anguish Their seeds. Yet at midnight In an empty

Truckee River at Mayberry Park Sitting cross legged on the sunny bank My warm freckled skin radiated Sun kissed and red Like the tender rose petals I would bury my nose in Those delicate mornings While working in the garden. Here my tired limbs found refuge From the busyness Of the workday. Casting off my dirt crusted boots and gloves Amid scattered rocks and weeds Willow seedlings slowly Emerged from the ground. Tears of gratitude Flowed out of my eyes Watching as little lady bugs, boundless bees Softly landed on wildflowers Large yellow swallowtails Swayed with the cheat grass Contrasting the sharp beauty Of neon purple thistles. Nevada scrub jays noisy in the background Blending in along with the chorus A Humme Hum of the rushing waters Twisting and turning with a gentle sound. Above the crown of my head The only distraction from the sheer expansiveness Of the blue, crystal-clear heavens Were simple clouds. The pads of my palms met At the center of my heart