The brown eyed girl
believed she was nothing but a defect
but I believe she just hasn't begun to unfurl
her own set of silver wings yet

heart of sunshine
laughter of wind chime

she is beautiful
brown eyes so full and bright
her smile that will never dull
has showered everyone in her light

full of brains
no refrain

one day she won't need me to sew her wings
and she'll fly to history
leave a burn if anything
hand in hand with me.

my favorite part of silence is that
she speaks to me

when winter hushes the world
silence greets the rubber of tires to handfuls of snow
resolving the angry roaring of these metal beasts
to purring

when sitting on the rural porch of my grandparent's farm
the voices of the trees are reduced to murmurs
and for some reason it's so much easier to breathe,
to hear myself think

when sounds become null
they leave a hollow space
but silence fills that aperture
with giving smells colors
gifting wet grass the smell of baby blue
and honey the smell of heavy brown

my favorite part of silence is that
she allows me to speak

Quiet shadows
  Cooling coffee
Tiredness behind the eyes
  And light
A cheap little luminescent lamp
  In the corner of me
But the wrong corner
  To write about such worlds as these

I have fashioned out my worry doll of you,
your hair and eyes richer, sweeter
than the darkest honey.
Now you are borne from my own hand,
you cannot leave me.

I’ve sewn in a heart to keep you warm,—
amber eyes to charm me—
moulded lips from red Edam wax
and pressed them into your cloth cheek.
They do not stay. At night,
my teardrops stain your linen dress
a briny, bitter shade.
The lines I've painted on you bleed and run.

I love you, all the same.