Tag Archives: DeMaris

Precious Thing

The new
unwrapped gift
is in front of you.
It’s exactly
what you’ve wanted–
never dreamed
you’d possess.
You can’t decide
if it’s as functional
as it is beautiful
but if you put it to use
it might break
or be destroyed
by the number of hours
you expect it to work–
after all
it isn’t a toy
but something fine–
something fragile
something so rare
your instinct
is to put it high
on that shelf
you paid too much for
last year in Providence
and walk away.






my pretty love,
are an experiment—
you are a pillar
starting out perfect
and I am going
to carve you
with an honesty
so sharp
only diaries and priests
are accustomed
to such
clean cuts
unadulterated truths
and I can’t wait
to see if you’re
still standing
after you know
I’ve ever needed
and if you might
become something
like a sculpture—
even more beautiful
when parts of you
are whittled
almost to the core—
polished by facts
that no one
is expected to share.








Blood Loss

Please, heart,
stay where you are—
safe in the pocket of air
that surrounds you,
keeps you protected
from the blows
that are small enough
not to break you
but still bruise.

Please, heart,
listen this time—
remember the way it hurt
to beat for love
that was only half
fulfilled, half empty
every time
you pressed against
a foreign rhythm.

Please, heart,
don’t make this mistake—
don’t open your doors
for love
and settle for pleasure
when you know
how much it costs
to come so close
and still bleed.








Stopping Point

You are on your way
in the middle of nowhere—
the road having taken you
to a dead end
where you must make a choice
between a cozy log cabin
in need of a few small repairs
not very spacious
but with a comfortable bed
and access to every tiny room—

or across the street
a more modern dwelling
with a beautiful façade
sharp angles, plush interiors
viewable from the grand foyer
which is where
you’d have to settle
because the rooms
are off limits to guests
for this season and the next
and even though the hospitality
is top notch and all-you-can-eat
you suspect
you would never be full.






Shape of Love

He cracked
the oval eggs
into the round
frying pan
and I folded
his t-shirts
into perfect squares
and we sat close
on the
rectangular couch
with his arm
circling my shoulders
and my hand
between his thighs
which is the picture
of nothing
nothing extrodinary
that it felt
exactly how love
should feel
which is happy
and whole.