she was like
        a wilting flower
drained of all things
that kept the others upright

he was like
        a rushing brook
who saw her crumpled and tired,
crowded by overgrown weeds,
and wanted nothing more
than to clear the earth around her
and see her bloom again

so he took all he had
        and poured it into her
and when finally the pinkness
had returned to her cheeks
        she looked back at him
        and saw that

he was now like
        a withering shrub
frail and planted in dry clay

and despite the deep conviction
she had in her heart to restore him
        like he had restored her
all of her best efforts
left her with with exposed roots
and dirt beneath her fingernails

he wouldn’t let her stay
        to continue to try
        to quench his thirst
so she left him with a watering can
and promised he’d soon find relief

your name is always
on the tip of my tongue
and if you
wrap me in a blanket
and place me by the fire,
in the flames
i'll see your smile,
but if i blink
it'll disappear
because our time
while full, was fleeting
and now you are just
dandelion seeds
in the summer breeze
that will land
in another yard
to make someone else's
wishes come true

Your feet have no longer stepped along the shiny finish of my floors.
Your smell, no longer seeped into the fabric.
Your awkward presence no longer lingers at the door.
My house is no longer the home you choose to pick.
Your love no longer resting on my bed.
I miss the way your laugh danced around my room,
it loved to kiss my silly head,
the chamber that is now your incarnate tomb.
When you see me, is it still hard to breathe?
When I touch you, does it make you just break down?
Does the way I hug you make it hard to see?
And in the scent of me, you love, you drown?
You're a good actor, fool. ****. Dope.
The way you're acting now is prime.
The way you act like I'm not there, that's what you hope.
And how you really cant see me. How I cry, inside.
Take me back, Imbecile!
We can kiss through the dawn.
Passionate love, kiss me unforgivable.
But you can't even love me when I'm gone.

He wields the  Hammer
Yet sees no nails
So blindly he swings
Through space, through time
Untill they rust,
Untill they come lose,
Untill they fall,
His box open
The hammer is fallen

In your mind, you believe you are like artists you listen to.
Like their deep, meaningful lyrics relate to you.
In your mind, you think yourself to be clever.
Your little sayings and sarcasms so devious.
In your mind, you believe that you are a hipster.
Ironically saying yolo and swag.
In your mind, you think that you have inside jokes.
I tend to think that they are just with yourself.
Maybe that's just it.
It's all in your mind.

how many coins do we have? you count
and I’ll see; call out as you count, tell me
how much exactly; and then how many days
it will take us to…Little Boy with his crutches
can buy a new one, maybe
and a new shawl for mama…
throw it, one coin against the other as you count;
I love to hear the clink of coins…ha, ha –
you know, sometimes
I even lick a coin to see if it’s pure…mama says I’d get sick
if I did that…yeah, certainly not as sweet on the tongue
as the grapes and fruit we sell, but certainly tastes well
to me in my mind
have you another coin in the other palm?
this day a Lord’s servant bought
some grapes in the street corner;
she said it was for her master’s table,
and our grapes were glowing and fresh
much as what her master loves…and she was kind to me…
did you count the other coin? sometimes I wonder, you know,
how many coins we will need till the end of our lives,
like to the time, say, when Old Boko died last autumn –
how many coins will it take to see us to that moment?
Yes, and of course, how many grapes
would we need to sell to collect that amount?