Being rich
has to do with money.
Feeling rich however
has nothing to do with what you own.


Shell ✨🐚

as nightfall stung
in a blood-red October sky
as dewdrops rolled off blades of grass
and the air passed through my silky dress
caressing each mound of breast
till I heaved in distress
and broke out in hives

Waited till
the calendars flung
out of the window as robin sung
on snowy branch
and my pen danced on perfumed paper
that lit up like fire
as I inhaled the vapor
drunk on yesterday
and bent of this caper

Waited
in shadows hung
on city streets
like stalkers stalking me
in the desert moon
and weeping icicles
in the month of June
till I froze in my tracks
an ice-sculptor for the parade
with a pound of lemon, *****
and sage

She loves the
darkness.
It’s like a scar on
her soul.
She constantly complains about
my drinking,
yet daily, she fades
to black.
Sleep, oh what an
escape, but she
rapes the sunrise with
worry and
dreams deferred.
I write by candlelight because
she’s in a  
foul mood.
It’s like a tomb.

Despite my reservations, you have often stated that we are two sides of the same coin.
So why can't I see your face on it right now?
I strongly believe that in order to destroy anything that I perceive to be an ideal, you removed the side of the coin that bore your face.