tiny overseer of my sleep
who see s all with ebony button eyes
of endless depth
the silent observer of my dreams
he descends from a proud ancient line
guardian of all sleeping angels
who remains steadfast
in his quiet place
of seemingly endless  meditation
next to me

Let me trade in my smile for fangs
And my feminine fingers for paws.

Let me trade in my manicured nails for claws
And my curly locks for silver fur.

Let me trade my heart shaped mouth for a long snout
And the freckles on my nose for whiskers.

Let me trade my curves for a round, bushy tail
And my clumsiness for strength and agility.

Let me trade my tears for whimpers and barks
And my voice for howls in the night.

Let me trade my dinner reservations for hunting down a moose
And my poor senses for keen ears and a nose.

Let me trade my soul for a different one
And become a friend to the moon.

Let me live my life as a wolf
And all that it encompasses.

Let me symbolize the dawn and the dusk
And let me symbolize the converging of light and darkness.

Because that is wolf,
And that is what I see, when I look in the mirror.

You're the full moon that I look at
Bursting bright with your moon beams.
You're my very own Texas weather,
Because it's never what it seems.
You're my mind when I am sleeping,
Filling me with lucid dreams.
You're my ocean on a sunny day,
When it glistens, when it gleams.
You're the library card I misplace,
Yet can always be redeemed.
You're my favorite fuzzy sweater
Held together by the seams.
You and I, we go together,
And we make the perfect team.

Our hearts are the same.
They pluck the same tunes,
create the same vibrating frequencies
that we hear as individual notes.
It's the same reason why some songs
touch our insides more than others;
because they contain melodies crafted
from the same instrument that resides inside us.
It's the same reason why some souls
become electric when put together;
because the pretty voice inside your head
is perfectly in sync
with the rhythmic drum beats of my heart.
I can hear it.
It's music to my entity.

Nobody knows about the time
I once carved the shape of a butterfly
etched it onto my skin
right where thigh meets waist...
In the end,
reincarnation got it wrong.
It was a simple mistake
because I was always meant to be a butterfly
for this life
and all the lives before
and all the lives to come.
I wouldn't mind so much
if being a human meant
I could still fly and be free.
And drift from place to place.

I stare at myself in the mirror
Bloodshot eyes
I laugh, a familiar lump
Rising in my throat

Showers
Always the best time and place to cry
Why?
Maybe it's because the water falls to the ground, together with your tears

I step in
The cold water shocks me and I immediately relate
Cold, just like my empty, bare soul

Sometimes in the shower,
You never know if you've stopped crying
As your face is always damp

Slowly the water heats up and
The tears let loose
Ragged breathing, choked by the steam filling the bathroom

Lonely.
Helpless.
Disappointed.
Am I loved? Not anymore I think
But there is some warmth left
Only from the hot water running down my back

I know what you're thinking
'What an emotional kid", right?
But you can't hide the truth
That you were once finding comfort from your shower

My home is my car
even though home was always
where my little girl is

Society exiled me
or did I exile me

My days are limited
but my thoughts are infinite

The stars are my only companions
I wish I could join them
if only I could be a part of
the little dipper that hovers
right above her house
a perfect view

If I can't forgive myself for leaving
maybe she can

The weeks without food consume me
until I forget my name and my past

If I can't come back as a twinkle in the night sky
let me come back as the wind
that she inhales into her body and
exhales out with a sigh
that ripples through her hair and
cools her neck on unbearable days

I hope to God she knows
and I hope to God there is a God

Oh, those winding curves and me with no brakes.
Oh, those long legs and me with no reaching arms.
Oh, those pearly whites and me with no available floss.
Oh, those voluptuous locks and me with no comb.
Oh, those big revealing eyes and me with just a windowless soul.
Oh, those velvet hands and me with not even cotton fingers.
Oh, that woman of absolute perfection and me with no way to contain her.