I care about you Tomorrow's Girl
But you are right to fear me
I can be uncharitable
My intentions, sometimes dishonorable.
You do well to distrust me
I do not always wish your best,
even as I pledge you my loyalty.
Your desires are interpreted through my jealous filter,
the Maya of my own creation.
I will wish you ill,
And neither of us will know it.
Beware, I warn you from a higher perch.
I have also trusted in a Yesterday Girl.
My deceiver she was.
And wounded I was by her
In the very sanctuary she had created for us.
Above all suspicion,
She cradled me from weakness to strength
Then coldly abandoned me with the scars of her desires.
But she is not dead.
She whispers to me still, of promises unfulfilled.
And I listen.
These I must pass to you Unfortunate Friend.
I can choose nothing else.  
Release me from your grim judgement,
As I have long-forgiven my beloved betrayer.
You too will wrong your charge.
You too will give a Judas kiss.

The heart I gave you long ago,
The one I'm sure you've never known,
Travels an icy river road
To an end I fear cannot be shown.
Alone in currents black and swift
Rushing downstream bruised and sore
Eddies pull and waters shift
And Heart floating on in rapid drift
cannot bring itself to any shore.
Over rapids poor thing goes.
No eye sees
No one knows
As flesh does tear sad heart grows frail
Can give no fight
And slower waters latch on tight.
Respite for a moment then
The burning flicker still within
Not quite extinguished by the wet.
The time to drown has not come yet.

Body born into color
Many-swirled movement of dawning life
A certain thickness of  hues
in a wrinkle-free skin
Intense in existing, finding itself to suddenly BE
Now twisting in constant change
glorious in this proud dance,
willing beauty forward
Then, a slow shift in rhythm
Softening comes to everything
The reds go flat
The blues dry out
The pinks and greens cling to each other
All mesh and flow, darkening into gold.
Lastly, a bright silver until
thinner, thinner yet thinner, the sheath is paling. Grayness now all, and exhausted
Suddenly gone
Body is no more

In a room with 47 people
Some of us are great friends
Others I barely know
The younger ones group up
The middle ones group up
The babies don't know
The ones around my age look with eyes of knowing
They feel realer
They can look back at more
But it won't last
They too are fading
Who comes in later to sit, I wonder
And who has been forgotten
And later
when I am just one small piece of that last person to come to us
will the woman numbered 47 be remembered by her at all?