golden sun on our
cheeks, waves crashing at our feet;
bring me home again.

fingers slipping
losing grip,
gripping slits-


letting go,
though falling,
airless, weightless, *know nothing.

final words
start lost beginnings,
stories of an ending
started long before you pinned it-

i was
dying in the sun all along.

terminate this
i cant
narrate this anymore,
cant take this.


miles behind,
oceans in between,
no rearview mirror
no hindsight debris

gaze straight,
fixation on open space
numb, riding waves
limbs dumb for oceans,
cant, wont stay,

motionless.
nothing but a


wilting bouquet,
don’t you
agree?

meteors and wishes galore
just one more, no one more.

on anticipatory guard
eyes dart in saccadic movement
panoramic view of just a sliver
of the most expansive expanse,
universe at a glance

finger points there
purple raging fire flying
swift and smooth,
fleeting but forever
with an afterglow,
trail of smoky gold


shooting stars are scars
and remember that
scars are stories

one of those astronomical,
super-events in outer space,
core-altering;

what happened was
You.

infinitely flexible, malleable
in every way imaginable;
sprinkled in magic with a taste that can

2. complicatesimplifyconfuseand
clarify;

3. a compass with which castle crafters
map their masterpieces, built from layers of
similes and metaphors and symphonies of sound,
of memories and apologies and everything bound;

4. a reel of delicate threads which
fervently await a seamstress of words to
weave them together;


*impressionable when you don’t mean it,
fleeting when you do.