and some old ones

portland rain
in the
dark night,
water dripping
from the sky;
the key to keeping
your feet dry
is merely a matter
of avoiding
mirrors.

untitled
Seeping into the mind,
it crawls across the valleys and dunes,
stretching long and curious fingers
to probe the most delicate flesh,
to prod the most intimate tissue.
Questions pressing against
the backs of eyelids,
nudging aside strands of hair
to whisper in the curves of an ear.
Doubt begins as a trickle, but ends as a flood.