We go to the mall,
She has me try on a bra,
She asks me what cup size I am,
"10 I guess, that's my shoe size"
We laugh and the store clerk looks bewildered,
We leave empty handed but our minds filled with memories,
We feed each other sushi,
Seeing who can handle the most wasabi sauce on one sushi roll,
We laugh as we chug green tea,
The store owners look mortified,
But are pleased by the huge tip,
I lead her to a shoe store where we find the best fitting shoe of the opposition gender,
She laughs as I try to walk in stilettos,
She just wears sneakers,
I break them,
We pay the owner and don't keep them,
I had fun today,
I think she did too her eyes tell me all.

I want to be loved
right through to my
      dark edges
where indigo smoke,
as mystical as night,
curls up to envelope you
I want that haziness    
     to penetrate
the fire in your eyes
as they mist over
two deep pools of wild
liquid-colored lava
I want to kiss you deep
right down to the embers
take them upon my tongue
      even if they burn
Let them smolder
Let the frayed vibrations
of our union
drip into magic
Let a new consciousness melt
into the realms of our minds
in an electric-toned hue of spirals
Let the love that has been
sealed inside
           go ultraviolet
          with every single breath
and all the poison of past battles
burn away
to reveal the buds of spring
as they burst through
layers of ice,
of ash
of obsidian
for even the most tender
of shoots can unfurl
in a magic that
defies the logic of suffering
and conjures
the language of miracles

He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.