He said my name like an oath.

I said his like a war cry.

We met in the ruins of reason,

and built something holier from chaos.


He wore the moon in his eyes;

silver light and tides that pulled me under.

I gave him the sun,

burned my hands just to keep him warm.


We weren't star-crossed,

we were conjured.

Some cruel myth breathed us alive,

then turned its back and laughed.


We stole time from the fates.

Danced in Hades’ garden,

bathed in river Styx,

stuck out our tongues

as the gods crossed their arms.

He held my soul in his teeth

like a prayer too sacred to swallow.


And when the sky cracked,

we didn’t flinch.

We were the storm and the silence,

the prophecy and the curse.


Let the poets argue if it was love.

Let the priests deny it with trembling hands.

Let the world remember -

we are unforgiven

for making the heavens jealous.

She waltzed in wearing lavender -

not the bruised blue hue of dried buds,

but the soft, delicate shade that makes you forget

poison can be pastel

and alive.

The cerulean seas of her eyes

surveyed me with a crocodilian smirk

an undertow ready to clench and drag

for its own amusement

She smiled like silk,

shiny, delicate, costly

as she handed me a cedar latched spice box.

Inside

red cords, scissors

pressed flowers so fragile they'd shatter

with a whisper

and a single letter sprinkled

with cayenne

sealed with red lipstick

too heavy to open.

"Time doesn't belong to you," She whispered

like it was a flirtation

like my hours were hers

to unwrap

to discard

She kissed my questioning forehead

soft, sealing, dismissive,

answered nothing

just reached for my hands

with perfectly manicured cold fingers

I gasped awake

my mouth full of cinnamon

dry and hot

a goodbye I didn't choose caught in my throat

that I prayed I'd never have to speak.

She's reappeared now and again

in the corners of mirrors,

fond of the elevator's reflective surround

and the hammered copper coffee jar

that stays open like a lifeline.

always twirling her ashen ringlets

waiting? warning?

When I glimpse her, I open the lace covered windows

and let the sun reclaim the shadows -

until even her perfume forgets my name.

I'm not jealous

dreamily awake
Sway of Candle
You Approaching Like That
that makes the stars sparkle
melody of light
Lightness
and rigidity
and follow me
rhythm of a child's heartbeat
The crutch of life.

Today,
there was pain
and work
and realization.

Tomorrow will be the same.

I’ll allocate any deviation
to be microwaved into tea or stew
and consumed by a select few.

The contents of my self
are delicate and subject to change,
are easily manipulated and fragile and strange.

So I lay it all out
And walk away.
Tomorrow is another day.

Don't tell
anybody-
just be!