On the porch,
Our star hung high above us,
The flowers bloomed,
Trees wiped away sleep from their branches
I remembered the frost on my bones,
Floating candles of fireflies,
Laughter in the breeze,
And the rain dripping from the shingles

the reason to wake is to kiss the day
and be kissed back awake
by the fineness of the thinking mind
and a heart so big it breaks
on the shores of everyday madness
she bleeds a little tear and rushes
to set right the wrongs of mankind
kissing a wound here and there and here again
she wakes to a brand new day

she carries
her stark
naked
beautiful
truth
folded
in finely
spun verse;
but sharp
are the
scars that
push their
way through
her fragile
layers
of words.

I'm  a believer in late night conversations.
I'm a believer in starry eyed, open smiles,
ink stained fingertips.
I'm a believer in hour upon hours,
lying in safe arms
disregarding the world and it's perpetually
complicated
social structures.
I'm a believer in butterfly kisses,and eskimo kisses,
and any other kisses you can muster.
I'm a believer in spontaneous proclamations of love,
sweet slow touches, reassuring words.
I'm a believer in eloquent anger,
words turned to a fencer's foil,
dancing in careful time with a discussion bordering heat.