Paper Cuts

your story lingers
not in those letters ~
your feeble voice
never ruffled fragile pages,
nor did your truth
ever drip from fear-tainted quill

your story lingers
not on the cover ~
you never made it through
the cracks that hold a symphony
of old & worn

your story lingers
in paper cuts, resonant
on eager fingers, now stilled ~
then
I still had reason
to decipher you.

Hourglass

broken-mirror-evening-sky-photography-bing-wright-thumb640
for just a little while,
my hindsight got tangled in the sheets.

when I emerged,
I saw cracks in heaven
& you —
deliberately strewn about.

_________________________
photo credits: demilked.com

Reflections

I saw you
in the passing face of a
faith-stained goddess, wound
around her wrists like
the very first snake; bound
to her stride by your
need of fulfillment & mirrored
in those long-lasting shadows,
left behind.

(Un)Bound

it is not the rose’s thorn, buried deep
in your nature’s thumbprint
nor midnight’s misty mutiny, that drips
unto your earthen feet —
but the sting of loss, mirrored
in the chasms of your eyes
as you grasp Understanding
by its vulturous neck
& free yourself from torment.

Pebbles In Time

once
I buried you
in the shallow waters
below the bridge &
when I hung my head in shame
I could see your frown deepen,
touched by the current

your gaze lingered
throughout the years, never wavering
beneath those watered-down ripples
while I closed my eyes
& burnt my heart

now
you & me
gather pebbles from the riverbed
(like long-lost treasure),
for they cradled your love for me
while I was Gone.

___________________________________________________________
For my Friend (capital “F”). Thank you… from the bottom of my heart.
Never ever want to lose you again. xx

Preserved

wrap tattered heart in stoic plastic,
smooth the barren earth which you call home
what once you deemed enthusiastic
now grieves beneath your hollow, shattered dome.

so shall the rains unleash your sorrow
wash burden far beyond your lover’s touch
place careful steps, seek fabled tomorrow
for in the end, the hurt won’t hurt so much.

_________________________________
(Yep, I cheated with the meter. Ha.)

2525

filtered sunlight caresses
chalk hearts on mag(net)ic pavement
and i salute those rebel kids
for still knowing
how to play

there is a myth, clinging helplessly
to the bare branches of March
officially permitted
to drown in wifi waves –
stamped and notarized

life is in a hurry,
sporting business suits and clenched jaws
(get out of my way! no time, no TIME!!)
and i wonder
if there is a code in these fateful digits –
the true message:
2525.

Care

turn your back, playfully
and fumble
for your identity
in a lipstick-laden purse,
smiling butterflies upon
the ones who never care (to dare).

when Goldilocks hits the pavement
she will take the fall
in bright red stilettos,
fishnet stockings
and well-worn dignity.

would you dare
to care?

Slim

on a larger scale,
does the weight of
words left unsaid
increase?

perhaps
we should pound them
and weigh intention,
not letters.

Ghost Town

will i find you
there ~
where sparrows swallow
milky, filtered twilight;
where curtains sway
in lonely brother’s mournful breath?

will i find you
kneeling ~
chipped nails scratching
dignity’s former grave
into dust-covered floor boards
yet again?

& we wander
between coffee cups and autumn homes
to whatever end.

(Im)Print

fragile is my name
when i am stranded in your hands ~
formerly bold, i crumble
and leave
delicate calligraphy
for you to paint across your heart
in pulsing letters.

Iced Earth

BI_Ice_Crystals

there is a part of me,
crystalized;
hanging from a longing cedar bough ~
trapped in layered stillness
& waiting for (the) spring

when all i want to do
is ebb and flow.

______________________________
photo credits: antacticimages.com