Midnight fell on your face
As you brushed the flower surprise from my thighs
I blushed as laughter lit across your smile
A memory just moments ago
But I thought I’d write it anyway
While we were sitting here
I love you my dear
My darling, my friend
I’m glad to have you near all day
my love has no end
If I’m not present
You can find me in heaven
Ascending in bliss

I woke up in the morning and I was unstuck.
Suddenly I felt the reward of good luck.
The fates smiled upon me
and I smiled back.
From that point on my life was on track
The truth is that never happened at all.
I woke up in the morning not wanting to wake up at all.
I felt stuck by continuous bad luck.
Misfortune and misery were all that were me and disaster was to be my destiny for all of eternity.
But I woke up in the morning and made a decision, to write a revision to the start, to make an incision in my heart and fix the broken part. While I was at it I changed my mind because I saw that I had been blind, with my vision restored I sought to change more. I began to see what I had wished to be before. Suddenly, I woke up and I was me, nothing more.

A dream come true is what you are.
A fulfilled wish made upon a star.
You are everything I had been hoping for
what I thought was just silly old folk lore.
An idea to imagine yet never obtain
A day dream to induldge in and quickly refrain.
Now I know you are all too real.
The perfect euphoria I can see hear and feel.

If I show you my
vulnerability.
Would you take over my
insecurity.
If I tell you my
history.
Would you stay
officially.
If I put my heart
in you.
Would you trust me
consistently.
If I open up
to you.
Would you understand
my fragility.

Down the hallway
dimly lit eyes peak open
from pores on the pale painted skin
covering each door.
Jesus sings a song
while listening to stories
of the resurrection from other people
on their fourth trip
back to this world.
Walls white as paper
scratched with caveman markings
like Lascaux
hidden under sound
from black screens
with holes in their faces
opening and closing
at the touch of their faces.
Bushes of green trees cover concrete
like an oasis in the sand.
At its end
a large window
keeps thick skinned
scaly trees at bay
near a chair, cushioned and pink
pointing back up the hallway
from which to sit
and ponder these things.

In my dreams, I am alive,
I can do anything without fear,
I know that I will survive.

I’m hanging
on the ‘y’
of your goodb  e
                         y

To the pen
That became the blooms of ink spreading across every page
To the tears that created tributaries for conduits
Which became the atlas to my heart
I’m not sure how life has become so strange
But I know that the ink is running through my veins and I am being held
But I flow freely like the tears that silently became rose petals of liquid metal

Nimble leaves
Wavering in the wind
Holding tightly
To the twig
The branch is steady
And the breeze is ready
To give heed