You know it’s good when it takes
ahold and refuses to let go.
Even better when it climbs
inside and wiggles to and fro.
It argues around inside your
ribs and creates a mighty row.
It builds itself inside your lungs
and takes your air to grow.
Open your mouth and let
it out with a mighty crow.
Sometimes it leaps but other
times it simply drips with woe.
Either way, if it’s done right,
it should set your heart aglow.
The only thing that matters is
that if it’s good, you’ll know.

The spring air, dusted with pollen,
Yet clear as fine glass
Filled our lungs as we ran
Laughing teasing
Breathing until it hurt

Remember the books I gave you
Returning what was stolen
And adding something more
The heavy smell of your fireplace
Coated my tongue
We sat on your hard red
Furniture, uncomfortably fancy.

That day in the light was the first,
The buds in the apple tree were bursting,
Flowering in the clarity of the day,
Exposing their sweet butter insides.
We were the constants,
Uninterrupted energy
Flowing like water in the sunlight

Staring at the eggshell walls
On that wooden bench
As dark as my soul
I watched you pass by
Without the slightest
Glance in my direction
I never saw your face as
I kissed your forehead

I deny your whole stupid game.
It always ends up just the same.
You forever jest
Never your best,
You forever missing
A beckoning thought,
You forever running,
An infinite cost,
An infinite lurching,
An infinite frost.

Red
Apple
Smooth and hard
Reflective bite
Crunch and juice and skin
Laminate precision
Firm and new and sweet
Falling harder
Luminous
Revive
Red