Tag Archives: jealousy


How easily
the sunlit beauty
of the day
goes dark
when tainted
with words
that are not
and bright
like the call
of the wood thrush
in the trees
along the river—
words that
do not flow in
and out of me
the way
this narrow boat
on its course—
that do not
float pleasantly
around me
like I love you—
and I’m sure
he wishes
he could
tell me anything
without fear
of me
going under—
just as I wish
his fondness
for her
have the power
to sink me.






What Have We Done

What have we done
but fall into that bright darkness
where everything has edges
so smooth and soft
it seems impossible to feel lost
or wrong or even sorry
for what we found

What have we done
but watch each other fall
into that bright darkness
where everything has edges
so smooth and soft
we silently swell with jealously
unable to rise from the ground

What have we done
but push each other
into that bright darkness
by keeping our smooth soft edges
hidden after we discover
with horror our appetites
have no bounds



DeMaris Gaunt




A woman like that
does not exist on any sofa
no matter how soft
or affordable or white.
Page 41 is a beautiful lie
warmed by the California coastline
seen through those
whitewashed French doors,
open to the sugary sands.
It isn’t hard to believe
in the length of her hair
or the highlights that shine
with an angelic glow.
But isn’t skin, up close, always
pitted with disappointment?
And that book she’s holding,
I can only hope it’s a prop—
a silly vampire novel
or a dime store romance
which surely pales
when compared to her own reality—
exhilarating and charmed.
We mere mortals
exist in houses on another page
in another state
equipped only with our wit
and our deep thoughts
to entice our lovers
on the languid afternoons
when we secretly hope
that women like her don’t read Pinker’s
“How the Mind Works”
in their spare time
or work toward law degrees
from Harvard.
We are unable to imagine the luck
of being awarded brains too
with those thighs as long and smooth
as our lover’s dream.
My envy
isn’t a wish for hardship or harm,
just that she can’t cook
and that she goes home tired
to a second hand couch.

DeMaris Gaunt

Photo by Deanna Morae