I'll wave,
creating shapes with my flame,
you'll mistake yes for no
speechless for shocked
sad for emotionless.
you'll feel the heat and
assume that I'm here to burn.
you'll never see the colors I am.
I'll never be able to tell you the scents.
I'll be confined in this little glass jar.
and then?
you'll ***** me out.

The waves crash down
With visible thrusts of movement-
An untouched power in the
MIDSTS OF DECEMBER.
I see them and question what they mean-
And the foamy shores mutter back 'nothing'

The wilted flowers whisper
In the frosted winter air
petals curved and red
Like my nails against your thighs.
I question what they said
But they look away absently.

Though I don't understand these moments
The message these things portray
I still sit on the docks
and watch the water sway.
I still lie in the fields
Letting pollen engrave the time into my spine.



Do you remember my smile, you said it lit up the room.
Or maybe you remember the blush on my cheeks.
The giggle in my throat
Or the way my eyes devoured you.

Maybe you don't.

But I remember your smile, how it lit up my world.
And the flush on your cheeks when I said I love you.
The laugh in your soul, the way your eyes never caught mine.
I remember your fingertips against my own.
And your hair, thick and soft, as if branching to hide your thoughts.

I don't read into these memories, I question them.
I wont get an answer, but I embrace their presence.
Might as well.
Might as well...

The wind rushes by
With an unseen push
Of an untouched sound
In the dark December sky

The trees speak to me
In the cold raking air
Branches outstretched
Like fingers through hair

Yet I do not understand
What it is they try to say
But I find littered leaves
Evidence, found in day

The wind yet pushes by
A pressure on the soul
To whisper long lost secrets
Trapped in a currents pull