I want to tell him
that I’m scared,
that I’ve been here before.
And that the last time I felt potential like this it imploded;
I imploded.
But I don’t want to taint it,
You see I’m still hopeful
That maybe this time
Won’t end up laced with maybes,
Or what ifs,
Or open wounds pouring blood onto paper.
That maybe this time,
just won’t end.

I’ve not quite worked out whether I think it’s beautiful,
Or stupid -
The human capacity,
And pliancy,
And longing,
For love.

she slides her slender
white fingers down the
branches of his spine

her eyes melted like
glaciers and lips as soft
as freshly fallen snow

skin lustful, but heart
unforgiving, exhaling
his every intention

she is autumn in his
palms, her trees bare,
the leaves rust fallen

flashing indifference,
thoughts plucked in
shades of violent rose

we always speak of forgiveness
does it really exist?
we say we forgive each other
then we make a fist

i could say i'm sorry
one hundred million times
but the stain still remains
inside of our minds

maybe up in heaven
is the only place it lives
we can try with all our might
but only God forgives

i am the stone that is thrown
that hits the water
causing a ripple
a tiny wave
across a giant ocean
touching shore
washing over tiny particles
molecules and micro-organisms
drowning some
bringing life to others