If I could breathe the trees
I'd exhale color

And my lungs would be full of Fall,
My chest would Rise with roots and sap.

I'd breathe them out, they'd take it back
We transform into each other.

I'd be Daphne as my
Skin turned to bark

And join the display
of orange red yellow brown

A laurel tree amongst mighty pines
a nymph before the gods

If l could breathe the trees
I'd exhale color

Remeber,
it was a year ago today
that I let you go.

Are you still around?
Still there to hear my call?
Maddening and still
I wait.

Incase you're somewhere out there
listening to my voice
I just wanted to say,
thank you little one
for giving me strength and allowing me to love

Your lack of existence
was something bigger
than imaginery
more real than reality
it moved mountains inside me
created oceans
caused thunder

You taught me
to love me
because I was worth it
and deserved it
when I asked "why"
You said "why not"

I cry
more often than I want,
And I manage to always do it right in front of you.
Something about your face,
Makes my face a canal for rivers of salt and sadness.

But there is always categories of sadness.
You make me so happy, I cry.
You make me laugh so hard, I cry.
You make me miss you, I cry.

I can count on my 20 year old fingers,
how many people I have cried in front of.
1,
2,
3,
4,
and you.

You cry
more often than you want,
And you manage to always do it right in front of me.
Something about my face, and arms.
Makes your face a canal for rivers of salt...
...I will levee them with kisses.

A smile forever
On this life too soon severed,
Her face blushed
with pockets of
glow.
To the darkness he fled,
Hands stained with red,
and stopped in his tracks by a
crow.

“Begone,” said the crow,
And he started to show
a wide wingspan
directing toward
North.
“A life has been spared
yet you still dare
to test the fates as your
time travels short.”

“Move from my way,” said the lover,
“I’m no stranger to once again smother.”
The crow with
his beak
pecked away at
his feet
And won a prize of a toe from the lover.

“Arise,” said the crow
to his new peeked foe,
“we have not even start-
ed yet.”
Though the journey was long
the crow sang a sweet song
just before a swift
stab at
the lover’s neck.