I'll dance, but only to the rhythm
Of a true pulse.

The most interesting souls I've
Met were the ones least

Interested in being seen as
One.

I have the nose of a poet; can
Smell fakeness from a

Heartbeat
Away.

Children lie.
The rest don't even care to.

She cries with the force of the stampede
That killed Mufasa, and I forget the
Viking blood that runs through us.

Weakness on display is a sign of strength.
She is the strongest person I know;  
Does almost everything without

Me. Barely cries about it afterwards,
When hindsight lets her see what she's
Been through.

Wake up, little heart; your nightmare is
Over. Fall back asleep in arms that
Care.

Listen: It's not raining anymore.
She calls out to me like air raid sirens
Over a city dark with enemy aircraft

Wings.
But all is quiet now.
Nothing harder than drops of

Water ever fell.
Sleep. Sun upon cloudless skies will
See you smile, drowzy; unalone.

Few words spoken
but many felt.
I know it well.

Raindrops on a train window.
So early it's late.
Eyes narrow with deep sleep
Unhad, mouth still bitter
From medicine breakfast.

Carousel of Everyday.
Not staying home is like
Being released into prison.
Dizzy fatigue, city chaos.
Some of us belong in the

Woods; look the
Most familiar from afar in
The mist.
I'll find bonfire comfort
With my temple against her

Collarbone.
Wilderness skies in her eyes.
Sometimes her skin is such
An opposite to cold concrete,
I cry in comfort.

Eyes narrow with warm
Familiarity. My
Tears on her tattoos like
Raindrops on a train
Window.