the air was cool, relaxing,
when he captured her
attention. he was leaning
against a pillar, long hair
pulled back into a thick
ponytail. his denim jacket
had a patch on left side,
right above the pocket.
one earbud in, the other
was just hanging, dangling.

his face was calm; he must
have been deep in thought,
staring at a spot on the ground
next to his heavy boot. he took
a puff of his dwindling cigarette
without blinking, brown eyes
unmoving. he carried the weight
of the world. with a sigh, he
lifted his eyes. they met hers.
he blushed and her heart leapt.

so many thoughts were
racing through his mind
when his eyes met hers.
green. jewels. she was
sitting underneath a
tree, the leaves a pretty
golden color. in her soft
hands was a single red
leaf. she twirled it ‘round.
it was the red of her cheeks.

she wore a white cotton
dress and brown hat; her
hair thick and messy. his
burning cigarette still
between his fingers, like
in a trance, he approached
her cross-legged figure, the
yellow above her like a halo.
he thought her an angel
and his heart leapt.

Isn’t it bizarre that a year ago, we were
living, unaware that the other existed,
two bodies, separated by miles and miles,
two planets, rotating in different solar systems,
two souls, living in unconnected worlds.

It is quite strange that months ago, we were
two people, unknowing of the other’s presence,
though through the progression of life, two
worlds became connected, two solar systems
became one, and two bodies were just a mile apart.

You, who were once a stranger, have moved into
my mind, made your home in my heart, and changed
my entire universe into something of a fairytale.

How strange is it that, you, who were once a
stranger, are the one I have come to love?

i count the stars-
at 23 i lose my place
because as i connect
the dots, i see your face.

i begin again
but only reach ten-
there's your smile.

once more
but only four.
i see your eyes,
twinkle and all.

it was one of those crazy hot days in the dead of summer.
i remember because of the sweat that poured down my skin
and the way my eyes squinted as the bright sun shone.
i massaged my neck nervously, my mouth twisted into a grimace.
ya see, i’ve always been weak, especially when it comes to you.
so what i was readying myself to do, i knew, would be too much.
but i had to let you go as the rays of sunlight baked my skin and
my head began to ache from how hard i was squinting, grimacing.
i said goodbye, as my heart raced, either from the heat or the pain.

Her feet are always cold, so
she stuffs them in soft socks
as we sit close together.
Giggles interrupt Dad’s TV
show, and we giggle harder
when he hushes us.

I beg her to go shopping,
though she much prefers
staying home in her socks.
We walk side by side, pinkies
intertwined, sharing secrets,
our swift steps in sync.

We don’t share the same
sense of style, but over time
she has come to understand.
Accepting the silly shirts and
skirts is much easier for her
now, since I’ve moved away.

When it’s time for me to go,
she sees me off, still in her
socks and a sad smile.

It was one of those mornings  
that the sun shone brightly  
through the thin, white curtains,    
illuminating his body
in a glorious light that caressed  
every inch of his smooth skin.  

His chest rose and fell softly,
and my eyes traced his face,  
taking in the immense
beauty of the man beside me.  
I moved closer to him feeling his
warmth, and he began to stir.

Sleepily, his heavy eyes
opened and a small smile
spread across his soft lips.
His glorious eyes moved over
my body, his hand reached for mine.
He whispered, “I love you, dear.”

And as the morning light
danced across our close
bodies, I knew that my
entire world lay beside me.
Closing my eyes, I took it all in.
What a beautiful glimpse of time.

I reply with all of the love in my soul:
“And I love you.”

She is a burning flame
that lights up the darkness
when the shadows draw near.

She is a burning flame
that provides a great warmth
when the cold draws tears.

She is a burning flame
that shines brightly the way
when the path becomes unclear.

She is a burning flame
that has made such an impact,
and I hold her very dear.

making fun of a past lover:
it's like taking a fresh breath.
but the smell of nicotine
on my cold fingers makes
me think of you and the
laughter erupting from my
chest suddenly feels wrong.

i had you in my grasp,
my breathing so careful
afraid to let you know
how hard it was to keep
my heart from beating
so hard, so fast.

i didn’t even notice
when you started slipping
from my hands until
they were empty; and
i realized i never
really had you.

i waited patiently for you today,
though i knew you wouldn’t come,
in our old spot on my porch swing.
the night air caressed my skin as
i swung back and forth, gazing
at the absent seat next to me where
you so often sat close, talking
endlessly as the stars appeared.

the streetlamp illuminated the
road we used to walk, too scared
to hold hands, too nervous to touch.
my mind followed our ancient path
down to the end of the road and back
laughing without a care in the world.
so i waited for you, though you never
showed, because i cannot be forgiven
for breaking your heart so long ago.

How am I supposed to  
be content in this tiny town
when my soul feels too big,
way too big, for this body?

How am I supposed to
forget all of these ghosts
when I feel their haunting
presence everywhere I go?

How am I supposed to
move past these memories
when all I can think about is
how things could be different?

How am I supposed to
let go of this aching feeling
when it is all that I have felt
for what seems like forever?

She moves, sways, dances to the music.
It starts in her heart, hypnotizing.
In a trance, it moves to her body.
Soft, fluid motions, closes her eyes.
Feeling it down to her soul, consumed.

Curious eyes fall on her moving figure.
Delicacy, grace, beauty enthralls attention.
Others follow suit, seizing her smooth rhythm,
feeling the music in their hearts, revealing
with movement, while the melody touches souls.

She loses herself in the sound of sweet music;
they lose themselves in the scene of her dance,
pure and serene, gentle and captivating all.

here we used to play,
up and down along the hay.
hide and seek, fear factor too.
now just memories of blue.

because we are all grown up
some with little families,
others with a cat and a pup,
the rest with piles of school fees.

of course they all feel content
and probably cannot remember
just how much it meant
to us to be amongst the timber
before the stress of paying rent.

so now I gaze at the fallen barn,
that is missing a bit of its charm,
the skeletal slats sticking up
like broken bones capable of harm.

the trees made a tunnel for us as we ran,
laughter echoing, bouncing along the trail.
the ground was uneven, my legs unsteady.
you had my hand, so fear failed to prevail.

the canopy, the roof over our heads
blocked out the blue, blue sky above.
sunlight trickled through the leaves
that danced and swayed in the breeze.

we had never felt so carefree as in
the woods that enveloped us with
shade and shadow, safe and calm
with every inhale of nature’s decay.

our fortress, little paradise found in
the world that’s much too big, full
of troubles snagging, dragging us down.
our fortress where flora and fauna ruled.

our secret tunnel made of trees.

hours and hours of chugging coffee,
brainstorming while adding toffee.
now home is miles away
and drifting thoughts won't stay.

Untouched, by human hands
it grows strongly.
Uncultivated, by human means
it exists freely.  
Untainted, by human instruments
it lives purely.

To its very core,
it embodies originality.
To its deepest roots,
it remains unrestrained.
To its brightest petals,
it emanates splendor.

Untouched, by social influence,
she grows strongly.
Uncultivated, by social expectations,
she exists freely.
Untainted, by social conformity,
she lives purely.  

To her very core,
she seizes independence.
To her deepest roots,
she wanders uncontrolled.
To her brightest petals,
she radiates beauty.