I love your freshly shaven face
with pale eyes like a storm
soft and new
sprinkled with dewy youthful radiance

having two versions of you

sandpaper and rough-skinned
salt and pepper beard
explaining life's experience in various grey hues
fingers follow deep lined wrinkles
the path to your lips

I have so many secrets
secrets I have been keeping for so long
I am keeping them from myself

The fingers of time
froze the autumn's pond
for snowdrops to bloom

Death is autumn's end
fallen leaves meet the rising snow
Let there be snowdrops

I watch the city burn
Through the vignette windows
Of tear-gassed souls.

And hell's fire ablaze
Between cracks of tears
Of childhood fears

I am

a

"thoughtful mess"

A poetry-book

she holds page in tenderness

love is in her eyes