Reprinted, with permission, from The Art and the Wait, a chapbook published by Finishing Line Press (2008).

Principle of Uncertainty

The very act of observing a phenomenon inevitably effects
that phenomenon in some way.
Werner Heisenberg’s Relativity Principle

I am nothing lacking him.
When he is not present, I am everything.
If he walks out, I alter.
He says I am small, but as he nears,
I grow larger. I diminish
him with a look, my eyes an equal sign
at cross purposes, sum of sun
making him disappear, but I close blinds,
and I reappear undone,
gaze as he shuts the door behind both
of us really. But I finish
comparisons: his angle can not matter.
He is long gone without me,
his movement unseen, my motion for distance
withdrawn. See him as he
is, stand still, standstill, still I wish. That changes
everything. This want
to know falters, this need to remain
in the dark.

Color Theories

The single orange is a polluted moon,
the dark wooded table a spread of sky,
the rim of white china that presents
the blood orange, half a wishbone―
but which half?
She sits stark blue
at 4 am in robe pondering dark
still life hidden in black. She pretends
she is blind, juggling bones, and capable
of deciding the fate of them both.
If she squints through
the half light
the rind’s brightened edge vibrates
equal value on the teal wallpaper.
The hue singes any edges inside her head
ridding the scene of demarcations.
The orange is an eye, the lid of sunrise
opening from the bare kitchen window.
In early morning, the pearl plate
glows gold, the orange now
an organ, the size of a heart, lit red.