you made
brunneras bloom
in the parts
of myself
that I thought
were lost forever

-a.

hope arrives and stays
favoring us by
crowning our flawed souls
characteristically in its own ways
through all of our
becomings and unbecomings
for they know even after
taking such a wild turn at life,
hope still stokes and fuels its drives
within beautifully for us

-a.

I may have let their
malignancy creep poison
onto my skin
way longer than it should
but there’s a reason
I had held itself prisoner like that
and here I am,
loosening all their ill, wicked psyche
into spilled ink

-a.

time is a fickle friend
until you feel it all over again
until you feel yourself
taking comfort in every cliches
writhing flauntlessly away
with that little spark of racy madness
to every coming of your
heart’s wild beat

-a.

breathe easy, darling
you are allowed to miss the way
everything that aches
afterwhile, slowly
come line your soul back in
and let the stars cosmically
theorize these old knots
until you learn to fancy a little bit more
of how much you would love to hear
the sound of tomorrow again

-a.

I gave every hurt a permission slip
to unmask and undo itself
until the sound of tomorrow
registers a certain sort of clarity
letting me brazenly  
arrive at myself
over and over again

-a.

in your coming,
I found my flawed self
a little less scarred,
a little less fearful
as if you brewed something
charmingly sorcerous
and that taste for love came
with such flames
every second our hearts meet

-a.