Silver rings upon your fingers
fingers trace my collarbone
silver’s soft, but gold lingers.
It reminds me of our home.

Where fleeting moonlight filters in,
through old windows veiled in lace,
over sheets, and over skin,
softly caressing your face.

Then, gold pours in once the sun
awakes form dreaming far beneath
a cloudless, moonlit horizon,
and falls like feathers on your cheeks.

An endless dance of day and night,
like hostages, inside we stay,
‘neath rays of gold and silver bright,
with you shall I forever lay.

a hot cup of
coffee in the  
morning is all
well and good
but I'd rather
have your lips
on mine, kissing
me awake
instead

All my life, I thought
I needed seas and
mountains and bright
city lights to be happy,
to be satisfied.

The truth is, all along,
I just needed you.

He creeped in through my window,
the moon’s shadow peeking softly
while I slept, watching, observing, guarding
a neither malevolent nor benevolent thing
just existing, in his own orbit, pulling the tides,
serving his purpose, being.

Glass plate, window to the road, the future, caked in red dust and
baked in sunlight, showing nothing but blue skies ahead,

I wish it had only been blue skies ahead.
I’ll never forget that warm summer afternoon when it was you instead of the sunrays beaming through the windshield,
when the air was so hot, we had to roll down the windows,
except, of course, the windshield remained,
and you didn’t.

Perhaps we should look to the
natural sweetness of wildflowers.
They’re beautiful without reason,
blooming each summer, for no one,
yet, their beauty is a truth that has
stood the test of time.

He was sweet, dripping honey from
his lips, lust from his eyes,
fire from his hands.

I know sugar is bad for me.
My head reasons, drinking from
crystal clear fountains of love
would do me more good than
that sweet sap, that poison, slowly
killing me, eating me from the
inside out, desire coursing
though my veins.

But my heart welcomes the sting, and
savors the burn as it moves down and
down and down