the tears fall from my eyes
and splatter across the page,
like polka dots.
this paper, forever stained,
is like my heart:
never can it return
to the perfect condition it once was in.
The polka dotted paper will never be pure,
and my heart will never be whole,
**both because of you.

her soft skin shadows under lace
life traveling through telephone wires
their songs echo from worlds away
after toast and jam she ascends into the rain
i sit and wait for an answer
i watch
she makes small oceans on the bathroom tile
the soft rose towel a cape
wet curls hang loosely beneath her chin
and a drop of water above raw lips
eyes like a geode