The blues can build holes
In the depths of your cavities,
Feed desires and sweeten the lonesome.

We made magic, dear;
The gift of your little day
turned into a little year.

Silent drums are loud
Celebrations of the mind,
Water, sliding chairs.

When the sun sets for me,
and it rises in my home.

They said
                moths are attracted
                                                 to the light
                                          but she's not very bright.

Travellers, we make our nests where we land

-

may dreams stay wherever you are; Close your eyes and go home

Lights from home
walk on our journeys;

Reach beyond the lights of the city.

-

I could hold hands with the stars,
come around, look down
While you look up.

We're not alone.

The words I wrote can hurt me.
She wrote to forget,
I read and remember.

Old almond gifts can make eyes tear
when we try and turn them into onions.

Sometimes I hear the air in your voice
and it cuts the air in me.

What I would give for those moments of truth,
accompanied by daffodils, tears, marking our youth