a preview of the unborn
will be filed
under: construction
while I belch buttercups & wonder
why the letters won’t match the thought.
Thoughts
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
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.
(Un)Sp(a)ring Cleaning
and in my thoughts
icountpreferablewaystogetridofyou,
huntpuzzlepiecesimissedalongtheway
and in my thoughts
ispinandtwirlandswirlandwhirl –
stickmyheadindarkestdankestcornerstomakesurethat
onedayyouwillbeutterlyandcompletely
gone.
Once Upon A Time
her life stained the wall
in guileless colors
while he
rode her to ruin
& shivers
ran down his boneless spine.
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.