On a family vacation
To the mountains of Tennessee,
We were on a hike,
And my Mother said to me,
She had grasped a tiny twig,
To break her from her fall.
She laughed at the irony.
"That isn't much help at all."
Right now, I feel like she did.
This scenario is foretold.
If I fall, I'm falling hard -
And there's no sturdy branch to hold.

I think I'll be fine.
You have your reasons,
And I have mine.
We've come to agreement,
We are civilized,
Empathetic, and decent.
Intoxicated confessment,
You feel a strong
Emotional connection.
Words so sweet,
You reserve for when
I'm in the midst of sleep.
At least I know
Our feelings are understood.
Together, we can't grow.
We couldn't bind, but our emotions could.

I'm so happy,
I could dance on the moon
To an a cappella symphony.
The shine in my face
Could give starlight
To a galaxy in billions of years,
And that will be my memory.
I'm so happy,
Mona Lisa will grin in return.
Gargoyles in Gothic cathedrals
Will cease their snarling stares.
I'm so happy,
And you are in the background.
I can dance to a cappella,
But not to the white noise
You emit.

Deciding between you
And only you
And everything I want,
Everything I have,
Was a ponder
With no easy answer.
I wish you were here
With me.
Sometimes I wish I had you
And only you.

How do we divide up
The Christmas ornaments?
When they are all
Celebrating our marriage?
When they are all
"The start of our yearly
Ornament collection,"
We thought would fill
An entire tree one year,
Years from now,
When our love would only grow.
How do we divide up
The Christmas ornaments?
When they are all
Symbols of unity?
When they are all
Carefully chosen,
Unlike our love,
Which was blind
And taken with no other consideration.
How do we divide up
The Christmas ornaments?
Who is supposed to hold onto
These memories?
Who is supposed to dispose of them
When their memories are irrelevant?
And when the small collection
Becomes too cumbersome to hold onto?
How do we divide up
The Christmas ornaments?

I am the breath you exhale
That sends dandelion seeds asail.
To you, a momentary pleasure,
While it gives my life new measure.
You've plucked me from home,
Blew me into the unknown.
I might be a seed under your boot,
My existence could seem moot.
But next summer, when you've lost incentive
In momentary pleasures, no longer attentive,
I'll be in full bloom.
Pick me up, I'll rebound again soon.

What does it take
To have a joyful cheer?
What is it at stake
To smile; that's unclear.
When our gaze meets,
And a smile, it is spread,
And I announce myself a greet,
It is unreturned instead.
For this reason, I am unsold,
I need your reasons why.
A smile unreturned is cold.
Don't say I didn't try.