my girlhood unravels like wool,
coarse, that unwanted touch  
stinging my skin,

a wasps nest, kicked alive
swarming all over me,

but these stings will not scar me,

I will grow new skin,
a shroud of flesh that has not
known the prickle of unwanted fingers tips

I will rise from the ashes of your depravity
like a Phoenix, born again

we danced on the eggshells
of our broken hearts

each step was exquisite agony,
and carried the endless hope
that we may find our way to love again

in the white dust crumbs

I am the ghost of poetry past

that cringe in your chest as you skim through words you once thought barred your soul
but now only shame it

that lump in your throat
as you try not to cry over a cliched metaphor
you used when you were sixteen and riddled with angst

you may think I am only here
to hurt and embarrass you

but actually,
I am the best teacher you’ll ever have

I will allow you to learn from what
now looks like shattered prose

I will allow you to grow from the imagery
you didn’t get quite right

and when poetry future calls,
she will bare gifts of words of wonder

that were only made possible
through listening to me

The trees sang our names
as if we were an ancient song,
shrouded in mystery and an infinite hope

the woods rattled with longing,
as our hearts danced beneath
a star splattered carpet

we were not unique, or new to these elements,
but it didn’t matter,

they held our love close
as if it were a newborn baby,
seeing a life unfurl as it gazed
into our bright blue eyes

as our souls cried out, primal,
for one more dance

I drank from your cup of love
like a child, idle with thirst,

the taste of forever swirled in my throat,

words that once formed there,
turned to white foam at the corners
of my mouth,

my heart sank deeper into my chest
at your fickle touch,

cemented there, caged there,

and I knew I would never be free
from this reckless lover’s command

I would follow wherever it lead,
happily

wild with longing and
that first promised taste of

forever

I am a child of the Earth,
sun soaked, soil clinging
to my bleeding fingernails,

breathing out the fires of desperation
and temptation,
breathing in the flame of purification
and damnation,

I am Earth child,
covered in mud and blood,
singing with the weeds,
dancing between the lilac lilies

How fast does the sun set
when no one is watching?

burnt orange skies that sink
like pebbles in a gently ebbing river

if no one bares witness
to the miracle of day’s end

does it happen?

or is all illusion and pink lies
told by the sunrise