there is a word on my forehead

as though God took a big rubber stamp

and a bright red ink pad

took me by the back of the head to steady me and

pressed it right on

making sure every letter

was permanent

then He let me go.

i wandered around lost for awhile

at first only vaguely aware something was there

i knew very well the looks i received

meant i had a lable i could not see

but the more i squinted at myself in the mirror

the deeper the lines bled together

i knew i was smudged

but was still illiterate.

i woke up to it one day

the world suddenly

all too clear.

and when i looked in the mirror then

reading the word meant now

i could define it

no longer allowing the opposite

turning stigma and shame into

something i can work with.

The feel of your hands,
the smell of your hair,
the rush of your energy,
the light of your soul.
The tingle of your touch,
the brush of your lips,
the tone of your whisper,
the wake of your smile.
The way you made me feel small;
I remember it all.

The shop girl and the mannequin appear
Together in their shop front window stage -
It’s here the plastic soul gets cleaned, and here
The brand new body dons the latest rage.
The model feels the former’s hands embrace
Her own, and feels the stressed-out beat
Of heart within the arteries, the trace
Of hurried blood where their pale fingers meet.
The shop girl scrubs the limbs to blanker grace,
And twists the head to meet the staring street.
So all will see the calibrated face,
And all will search the heart that doesn’t beat.

Week coming, in the season’s latest dress,
The shop girl will the mannequin redress.

Wings of scribbled parchment
Eyes the color of ink
Flying in the minds of  children and adults
Gliding on the gust of hatred, love, and dreams
A heart made of hope and faith trying not to be shredded
by the senseless thoughts of humanity

the air is cold
with the bitter
taste of chalk
and smoky smell
of chilled atmosphere
harsh Winter’s grip
not yet relinquished

your breath, defiant,
rushes into the world
nature’s still majesty
interrupted by clouds
the warmth of you
mocks the cold
of the sunless afternoon

I gaze into eyes that
rival the beauty
of the frigid blue sky
and my cheeks redden
with the sincerity
of my love for you

and death’s jealousy
is evident through
his vicious attacks
against

your body may break
but your soul is strong
and his power has no strength
against the Life within you

Would but indulgent Fortune send
To me a kind, and faithful Friend,
One who to Virtue's Laws is true,
And does her nicest Rules pursue;
One Pious, Lib'ral, Just and Brave,
And to his Passions not a Slave;
Who full of Honour, void of Pride,
Will freely praise, and freely chide;
But not indulge the smallest Fault,
Nor entertain one slighting Thought:
Who still the same will ever prove,
Will still instruct ans still will love:
In whom I safely may confide,
And with him all my Cares divide:
Who has a large capacious Mind,
Join'd with a Knowledge unconfin'd:
A Reason bright, a Judgement true,
A Wit both quick, and solid too:
Who can of all things talk with Ease,
And whose Converse will ever please:
Who charm'd with Wit, and inward Graces,
Despises Fools with tempting Faces;
And still a beauteous Mind does prize
Above the most enchanting Eyes:
I would not envy Queens their State,
Nor once desire a happier Fate.