the skies in saccharine town
change all the time.
sometimes rosy,
at times lavender —
the windows are always
a surprise in the evenings.
"how are you today?"
"she doesn't love me."
i am sorry she doesn't love
you. and that most days
you don't love yourself.
making tea and something
comforting to say,
in the kitchen
i'm singing my favorite song.
the bugs outside are singing too,
and the sun is magnificent.
leaned against the glass window,
i watch you talk about
everything that you hate.
"my thighs, my mouth, my hair
my voice, my stomach, my heart"
and i'm sorry
you don't see
how quickly life is going away.
your stomach is soft
and lovely, and i like
your warm breath
that keeps you alive.
"is the tea good?"
you nod.
you like the tea —
that's a beginning.
i want to ask you
to work together
on making a sweet life.
and breaking away
from the system, and politics
and what everyone wants.
i want to ask you
to build from nothing
and make a very, very small
and meaningful life.
and i want to tell you
to give all your love to
you, till you find someone
else to share it with.
"i'm never going to find love"
— but you are scared
and insecure.
and i'm sorry
that you're missing the skies
of saccharine town.