Just one summer               like no other
                        that is what it was !
You and I across the field
                          playing like wild children
          in the playground of my heart !
Here and there, everywhere
                    we were
                            angels soaring o'er daises
     unplucked*                           breathing *
Rain or shine, we were always together
                       drenched in sunlight we were poetry  
                                          As we lay softly on the
                         summer grass
the heady scent of flowers clothed us,  
                                    even rain could not wash away
                    the inhale of our innocence,  
It was a summer               like no other
the summer      when                      we first met ,

These highways past the outer rims of heaven.
Towers and spires of white rock.
Sunset colors the golden grass fire orange.
The deep of my thoughts write for me this dream.

When its gently raining, I'll live through it all again
It feels cold as it pours down the drainage hidden below sidewalks
In its rhythm and sounds of drops hitting leaves, empty streets whisper carelessly
There's a hollow bodied rhyme that longs for your sweetness in kisses

Your presence makes my life mean something, it is beyond what I can explain
I can't quite figure it out but it is something in your eyes
The gleam
The way the light dances in your heart and shines through you

When its clear skies outside, those lips are red
There's a place in my heart where it is warm yet unexplored
In the flowers and bees that live in the thriving atmosphere
There's a mighty beating heart that yearns for your strength and lightness of being, too

I've had enough of the beauty of seasons, I've had enough of the reasons to live
I've had enough of me and you being so forlorn from the past
So hurt inside, irreplaceable, irreparable, and broken like the fools

Torn apart from the seams like a book laying on the streets of pain
Where the rain has covered the leather in tears, drops of memories
Gashes form on the cover, your book has my name
Mine has yours, it drips in sweat and heat

I've seen you cry for me in the simplest way a child would
But I've been there in a way that I can't quite figure out
So you've surrounded yourself with the ghosts of your sorrows
And I've held on to the hope of tomorrow, slowly falling into the traps that God has laid for me

Its cold and damp now, I'm misguided you see and the words don't come easy
But they pour like the rain does a cold evening
I've cried enough tears for you, you'd break every time you see me
You've seen me once before in my coldest moment and in my most vulnerable

But not this way ever, I've never felt this way before
There's a tenderness in your heart
Supple skin covers your frame
You're the one who makes me believe in life's good things
It's the littlest things you see, you can hold me in your heart

I wouldn't mind being around you in spirit
Think of me when the day's done, I'll be there in the vestige of the night sky
You'll find me in the dawn's gentle light
It's the littlest things you'll find mean the most to me

A blink of the eye
Flash of light, the thunder strikes
Rain and calm ripples

sleep was the only sanctuary, was a
flower on the water, was the moonlit
ripples as night gathered her stars and her
promises, her indigos and golds.
i wasn't sure where the images would
take me, i could not surrender to them,
or they to me, my soul wrapped memories
into clouds, drifted with them and the
sadness that was the poetry today was
a song with so many myriads of water.
the water that filled with longing,
the water that poured into love.

"where love is the turning tide..."

it was as if i was hanging upside
down, and my eyes were softening
against shadows of sky and earth.
there is a paradise that waits in
the spring blossom and the bright
lights of the trees, in the freedom
of water and the soon to open eyes of a
winter girl who wakes with the morning.
there is nothing of you in the frail
notes of a song bird or in the deep
reaches of sea and the sky-asking's of the sun.
there is nothing of you and yet i  
want there to be, i want the emotions and
i want sorrowful skies and rivers of blue ink,
seas of summer, careless nights,
freedom that sweeps away the old
cobwebs and weeps to the stars
and you, i want you wrapped through
the night like a blue lily.

the moon lights a bed of frost.
the wind a storyteller.

are the stars and the sea
still there
when the sky weeps white?

the moon lights a bed of frost.
the wind is a storyteller

and the griffons know the failure
of flesh, flesh and bones

and feeling the bones
in my crooked nose,
I understand sunrise
is not a guarantee.

the sky weeps white.

but the nightingale sometimes
sings to me of you in my dreams.


...(if the nightingale sings of me
then know I hear her too.)

~
It should be stark
and unprovoked,
yet fight to conceal.

It should justify
its intrusion
by layering
new narratives:
each a wonderland,
each a poison.

It should spring
like a cat,
cloud like doubt,
evaporate like
cigarettes at dawn.

It should backlight
truth, fictionalize
history.

It should undo
reality, drift into abyss
with the Lady of Shalott.

It should lead
the march into the sea,
it should die gracefully.
~

the light flutters like ribbons,
the light gold leaf and flickering

amber, the light tenuous in her
gentleness, slumbering with her whims

and her sleep of blue earth, and air,
breath of joy, breath of dust.

night holds us and her daydreams are
a forgotten song, and night is like

the streams of water that awaken with
summer and her cool rivers of air, night with

her paradise far from the gathering
of limb and ledge, far from the leaves

of the dusk where the shadows tremble and the
water turns itself into tears, and we hear the

ghosts cry to the pretty sky,
sometimes we hear the ghosts cry.

I held my tongue when you walked away,
Told myself it hurt less not to say.
But silence only made it burn—
Some lessons, you don’t choose to learn.

I rarely cry, I play things cool,
But you broke through that guarded rule.
A bed, a hand, a whispered truth—
Then nothing. Like you’d just cut loose.

You gave me hope, then took it back,
Left me questioning what I lack.
I wasn’t some girl passing through—
I was a friend who cared for you.

No closure came, no words to mend,
Just quiet from someone I called a friend.
So here it is, my final line:
You hurt me—deep. But I’ll be fine.