The ribbons of your heart
Are entwined with mine.
Blood-red trailing on ebony
Softest silk draped over stone
You seek to love me
But I cannot.
I can’t risk you and I
Becoming entangled -
I fear we may never be free.

Black scales among white feathers.
White fangs between black beaks.
A snake, among the swans.
Both creatures of grace,
But one more deadly.

The snake has venom
But the swan has none.
The snake is sleek
But the swan can fly.

White feathers in the black dirt.
Black scales in the white lilies.
A swan swims away,
And the snake lies dead.


https://www.eastlothiancourier.com/news/15264801.python-found-dead-in-haddington-is-believed-to-have-been­-killed-by-a-swan/

You’ve wounded me.
Shattered my heart,
No hope of healing.

How could you?
Why did you
Twist my soul in two?

Your shards of glass
Have rent my eyes
Blood, like a tear, drips.

You sing and call so sweetly,
Summoning me closer,
Into the folds of your arms.
The shadows of your bent head,
Tucked down close to mine,
Reflecting a comfort and safety
That I’ve never felt before.

The voice of the night is soft,
Welcoming, in a way
That you could never be.
And I love her, deeply,
But she could never be the night.
She is not you.

You caught the sunrise today,
barefoot on the dewy grass,
the world holding its breath
as the sky turned soft and gold.

A bird sang—just one at first,
then another, then a chorus—
and you laughed because it felt
like they were singing for you.

The air smelled like beginnings,
like something had shifted
while you were asleep,
and you didn’t even mind the chill.

For a moment, it was enough—
just you and the morning,
and the thought that maybe
everything would be okay.

Why are you here?
Hiding in the stolen moments,
The glances of left and right,
Just behind my eye’s corner

Your love is still felt
Brushed against my fingers
When I reach for anything
Like feathers on silk

You haunt me,
A ghost of memories,
Of our little time together.
How are you still alive?

Hiding in my own gaze,
Dreading to meet yours.
Wondering what hurts more,
Hiding, or being Found?