Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?

The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?

Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now,
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow,
He still may leave thy garland green.

she responds in words as well
not in any beat but of the heart's,
she knows he can feel her,
no matter how far apart
she hears his voice in the sun
she feels his fingers in the sea
he's closing in on her
it's his, she longs to be

Chocolate
When heated
Changes form
Resolidifying
When cool

My body
Is melting
And reforming
My mind
Reinventing itself

Am I growing?
Or am I ageing?
Is it possible
To do both?

Things are melting
And I am learning
How to want
Less

Energy
Sometimes gathers
Other times
Dissipates

Satisfaction
Arrives
In small parcels

We spend hours
Watching others behaviour
Hoping to become successful
Just like them

And yet
The sun
The earth
The moon
Nature
All behave
With grace and dignity

We should watch more closely
And learn
From them

There’s something so hopeful
about a pitch black sky—
the kind of deep and ominous nothing
that couldn’t care less about your
renewed sunrise and
clean slated second chances.
There’s a calm in that darkness
that I **** up in one breath.
I hold it there, in my swollen lungs,
until I go a purple fit for her majesty,
and any specks of light that catch my eye
tessellate and turn and repeat.
This world becomes a slow song
caught in a kaleidoscope,
and I’m dancing,
happily,
happily alone.