Brilliant, your fury touches briefly
upon my sunburned shoulders -
one last caress, one last

violent

kiss; and then, in a blaze
of light and color you slip gently
behind the clouds and

I

shiver in the sudden
cold left in
your absence.

(sunkissed)

Is found in your arms,            
                                  calm me down,
                                  calm me down,

Quiet solitude in your arms
Makes the voices stop,
Makes the hurting stop
                       momentarily
                                relieve me of the pain...

Help me to be stronger
               (maybe -
                             I have not yet decided      
          if being stronger will be worth it again...)

But in the meantime,
Quiet solitude        
                      in your arms  
      Makes the world

              ~STOP~

((And I remember how to breathe))

for those days
when hope will not help
because it is not hope that you want
but a cessation
a finality
an end

for those days
when comfort only hurts
because everything hurts, everything
is tender to the
point of
pain

for those days
when kisses feel like
dagger blades between your shoulders
and promises like empty tin cans
tied together
with string

on those days
I will be silent
I will be absent, even when
I am very near
I will hold you
without touching

and when you cry
I will catch your tears in
a vial of crystal that makes rainbows
in the sun
to hang around your windows
when you are smiling and
laughing and
joyful
and
content

to remind your tears
they are safe to fall

Earth's Star slipping down
beyond the horizon, wind
in my hair, blowing

cold prickles up and
down my skin; though desolate,
the stark beauty of

the sight strikes me to
my core, ignites my soul, and -
to myself - I think

I wish to Live

Little love, my little squirrel, hiding in
the tree roots, the great big roots of the
trees you love so, rising up to kiss
the sky, caress the clouds, make love
to the sun, do you fear?

In the green,
     In the browns,
          In the roots near the ground,

Sometimes you hide
       (like now)

But lest you forget, (listen!)
you were born of the moon; of the rain gently tip-tapping
the leaves overhead; of the soft breeze
playing in the branches of your trees,
the trees you love so -

And so you are as strong
as the earth
as the sky
as the moon
and as strong as the
great big roots of the
trees you love so,

little love, my little squirrel.

I gather up the pieces of you that have been
broken off, callously tossed to the side, crunched up and
discarded, because they hurt too much to own.

Though right now you shudder to look in the mirror,
to see a reflection of your scars, your pain, your hurt,
I wait, and

In a private place, full of quiet light and gentle silence,
I collect the pieces of self you have lost and set them aside,
so that when, at last, you are ready to rest,

Your healing place will be waiting for you.

Like a spring creek, merrily trickling over the
tiny rounded pebbles in its bed, so glad
to be free of the winter.

Like the thousand and a million and the one
voices that make up the ROAR
of the largest, most glorious waterfall in the world.

Like a butterfly delicately gracing the cheek
of its favorite rosy flower,
swaying in the summer breeze.

Like the glorious vibrancy of fall, the leaves
playfully dancing in the wind, the world
alight with a thousand brilliantly colored leaves.

Like the unwritten poetry of a wintery
field, snuggled tightly under the blanket of
pristine, shimmering snow.

I think that I might love you -
I just wanted to let you know.