I remember the innocence of childhood,
like one remembers the smell of their mothers' perfume,
I remember that, too,
easy recollections of railroad ties
and the thrill of hiding
at the bottom of a pool,
hastily replaced with the loneliness
of watching the moon rise
from the center of a midnight field,
overtaken by teenage fury,
violent and vengeful for a stolen childhood,
now adults leaving ink footprints
through the new age,
teeming with a different variety of rage,
unwavering and driven,
lamenting on what could have been

~Leaves of Ink 2017~

I long for the soft swaying of the boat,
the calls of howlers nearby, signaling the
oncoming of another heat-ridden shower,
a sweet taste of red wine on my lips
while I watch as he stands on the bow,
the wind brushing hair from his eyes
as the rain begins to trickle down,
a nearby camel rushes for cover
beneath its sturdy shelter, and I wonder
if this is what peace feels like

my thoughts drift away
to the soft brown hues
of your hair beneath sunlight,
times
when your best friend
was down the hall to the right,
and those
nights
full of laughter
as campfire sparks
singed my hair, secret
moments
where the rumble of your voice
sung in my ear and
your intoxicated bedroom eyes-
I touch your scar and remember
not all scars can be seen, but
the beat of your heart
against my bare skin reminds me
we are not broken souls beneath
twilight stars, but
one soul beating with a singular heart
awaiting the oncoming dawn