Beyond the trees in the clearing stood courage unclothed; always the preferred attire. Its gender, female; hence I will refer to it here as she.
 
Such femininity supressed in the webbed corners of masculine satire. To know it is to have it, to have it is to use it. Of course she recognises fear hiding in the wind that bends the trees–she too, is afraid.
 
She stands at the water’s edge, stoops to see she has no reflection, only blue sky staring back with a whisper, “Where there is no reflection there is courage.”
 
She exists in the space it takes to step from this place to the next. Courage will guide you when there is no water and if you get lost, look up,
—She is there too.

Can you hear the rustle
of leaves high up in the trees?
The wind does that.

Can you see the sparkles that
dance from the ripples on the water?
The sun and the wind does that.

Can you feel the cold of night  
that touches every inch of you
when I’m not there?
Absence does that.

Do you sense the emptiness
I feel when you’re not beside me?
I do, and you do that.

Cotton sheets
on a winter’s night.

She entered the room,
her clothes fell to the floor.

’You’re on my side?’
‘I know,’ and
slid to my side
to let her skin
lie in the warmth
I left for her.

And then she
thanked me,
in cotton sheets.

can you taste
the dew that
settles on your lips

I am that
the steam that
rises and drip
                         s

taste me like
the sun tastes
the rain

I will quench
dry sands that
leach from the
tear ducts of
your soul

I am that
and you are too

Sometimes you are like that stone wedged in the tread of my sole.
Sometimes you are like that fly that keeps coming back.
Sometimes you are like 8.30am Monday morning.
Sometimes you are like the day after, a big night out.

But most of the time you are like summer is to spring,
winter is to autumn.
Most of the time you are like water is to thirst,
the sun to the earth.
Most of the time you are like a leaf is to a tree,
the air I need to breathe
Most of the time you are like stars are to night,
a bird is to flight.
Most of the time you are the one
that makes sometimes so unnecessary.

All is not lost if you lose
your way and become broken,
a longing to tear open the sky.

Piece back the shards, one by one,
until you are whole again.

Start over, love finds the darkest corners,
so you can smile at the times
you have tried, but cried,