So she's pretty
And she's nice
But she's not honest
So we have nothing here

I may be clueless at times and difficult in some moments but let me tell you something I'm not, yours. I'm not yours, that's my worst flaw.

Stand in an open field and
tear out
the pages of your favourite book
and leave them
to the wind.

Underline the words for people to
find and read and
love
and leave you to wonder if they
noticed them at all.

I feel there is something to say
about the wind around my neck today.
I feel there is something to say,
but I cannot find a way.

I feel there is something to note
about this air around my throat--
Capricious and shy-natured,
it grips me, then slithers away.