“It Was The Sweetness I Was After” by Ariana Trinneer


It was the sweetness I was after.
The unfettered taste
of something present wrapped
and full of potential.
Yesterday I hung my bones out to dry
in the winter sun.
Clean and white they burned
like the bleach eaten rocks
we used to skip along the river.
Do you remember
when we laughed all the time
or is that just something I made up?
The accumulation of memory is useless
and that’s the bald headed truth.
A collection of spent seeds
to bury,
wishes
to blow.

It’s still me deep down,
It’s still me.
but there’s never any time now for knee buckling gazes,
when the world ricochets—
a flock of black words
against the window pane.
And the gap in my chest stretches so wide
that my hands gripping shoulders
over crossed chest
are not enough.
If I could just shake out
the misconceptions,
let them fly
with this northern wind
through the skeleton trees,
let loose the metallic taste
of disillusion
until my thoughts run sweet.
There is a big difference
between fearing the worst
and believing the best.

Ariana Trinneer

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

“Because the Reckoning Came” by Ariana Trinneer

Because the reckoning came
on an average tuesday
from a doctor with a young face and old eyes
with a small hole in his right pocket
that his pinky kept escaping through.
Because I hadn’t showered or slept or even changed my underwear,
because these kinds of things, these words,
the words he said, they’re not for us.
A white sky presses against the window and above me
toffee colored ceiling stains in the shape of healthy ovaries
tango like we used to in the old days
cheek to cheek, each pretending to be the other’s dashing future lover
while outside, the roar of Big Sur and the fog and our sweaty hands
lifting the window to the car waiting below
smothered laughs and the boom and the crash
and the wet sand and the beach fires and the thick skunk-smell of pot
and the luxury of it all,
the luxury.
I watch his finger, pointed and bright against the blue cloth, just the barest tip
anxious and naked.

Ariana Trinneer

Photo by VC Ferry

© 2010