I am a seamstress
stitching life together in harmony
creating beauty every place my needle breaches
You are the weaver
you dart in and out of lives
loosely dragging us along
to the knotted finish line
weaver and seamstress met
and you are persuasive
performing the drama
and I believed
seamstress and weaver could create
a masterpiece so fine
to last for all our days
and yet
you have taken your dagger through our greatest tapestry
destroyed what I had birthed
you laugh because you do not know
the seamstress's needle knows no bounds
and your eyes
always too far apart

You've made me love the rain and jumping into puddles. Taking me outside to dance in the downpour. With your drenched curls dripping wet, strands sticking to your forehead.

You've made me love the moon. Her waxing and waning, full or sliver. Eyes like saucers as you gaze up at her, and point out each and every crater. Little walks at night just to see her better.

You've made me love road trips, driving for hours in the middle of nowhere. Listening to Hozier sing his love songs. Excitedly, pointing out every cow we see, and deciding we need to be farmers together.

You've made me love you, with your heart of gold and your smile that lights up every room. I love each moment spent by your side.

I'd drive forever to see you, give all my umbrellas and raincoats away, I'd even lasso the moon

simply because I love you.

Rising early, I slip into a crimson sweater,
pull on my lover's shoes and step out; Amidst,
the beating and bleeding red hearts and bright eyes
that move against a soft backdrop of dusty snow,
and then into warmer spaces, into homes.
I have none but you, my place of peace
adorned by our romance, our doting of,
Valentine frills, flowers, and fidelity:
I'm your girl.
And always shall I be,
a bearer of joy to thee.

our cottage in Ireland,
will have a little vegetable garden
a miniature paradise for you

I'll tend to her, pull out all the weeds
courgettes, spinach, and strawberries,
will be just the beginning
I'll plant potatoes, tomatoes, snap peas, herbs
and right in the middle,
I'll plant an apple tree for you

and you can eat love
you can have your fill

perhaps St. Patrick banished the serpent,
or (more likely) they never roamed the emerald isle
either way, we need not fear the snakes

there's no need for repenting, no need for penance
you can make a home in my heart,
and together we'll find our place in creation
for you'll always be safe in my garden

Women in my life
have lifted me up
My heart was but brittle, hardened clay
unworkable

Gently and slowly on the potter's wheel
My heart was spun
by a village of mothers
Formed to beat again
Formed to love