Under My Desk

There's nowhere to
Hide.

My wooden fortress
and aluminum armor
foiled once again
by the satellite outside.

I know it's there,
just beyond the clouds,
peeking out from the stars.
I peer back through the blinds,

wondering if it's as lonely as I am.

Those are the Days Worth Living For

She comes and goes with ease,
some days more than others.
I'm left
to discover who my wife is each night.

Thursday -- she was Mother Teresa.
Friday -- Mary Magdalene.

Maybe tomorrow
she'll just be Jamie.

...maybe