One face looks out from his eyes, a pure reflection of his deepest desire.
Flawed skin, unkempt hair, thick thighs - he sees her every flaw and accepts  them.
Every scar and freckle, every strand of frizzy hair, every single stretch mark that appears, he sees everything, and still he worships her.
The clumsy way she walks.
The way she sings too loudly with the radio.
The sparkle in her eye every time she sees a dog,
He sees her, and he loves her.
Her flaws become his obsession
And no matter how she appears to the world,
To him, she is nothing but perfection.

see beyond the words and faces
feel beyond the smooth skin
read beyond the print
breathe in more than the oxygen
run in messy houses
live beneath the bridges
seek more than what they can offer
but most importantly
always drink enough water

I thought
I knew you
so well -

like the
back
of my hand.
But every time

I look
at my hand,
there's a new

bruise,
a foreign
scratch,
a scar

I never had
before.
So the truth is,

I really
don't know
the back
of my hand

all that well.
So what does that say
for you?

I wake in the belly of a poem.
Wading into watercolor
And a twisting labyrinth
Of Boston ivy.
I can't see through this fog
But it can see through me.
Words like pollen glide
On the wind and
Guide me like fireflies to
A sanctuary of wildflowers.
Here, everything speaks
To me, fluent in my native tongue.
Inhale, exhale, repeat until there's peace.
Bonsai at my feet as if
My toes are whispering to the roots:
"Grow, blossom, thrive",
And I will learn to
Take my own advice.