in twenty one days, on the twenty first of may, you will be turning twenty one.
twenty one seemed so far away when you were growing up. i remember how you pictured twenty one year-old you, with wavy jet-black hair, thin bones and a radiant smile.
your hair is wavy right now, thanks to the rain that hasn't stopped falling; your bones are the thinnest they've ever been; and i think you've got a pretty radiant smile. so, three out of three, i guess.
and your life is better than what you dreamed.
you are surrounded by so much goodness.
your mondays, tuesdays, wednesdays, thursdays and fridays are filled with the laughter of fifteen children that steal your phone to take selfies and give you hugs that leave you breathless.
you have the friends you have always wanted. it took you a while to find them, but they're here now. they are your home.
you are doing beautiful things with your life. your words are in books, in journals and in people's hearts.
your life is more than life. it is light and fire and bravery and hope and a song.
and you are loved.

In spring with green buds
I dream of flowers, the silk petals of your lips
the flashing of butterfly lashes
soft upon my flesh
kisses flitting soft winged
across my face
in a myriad of colors
we'll create.

How I adore the
poetic verses of the moon.
Not the sun,
Not the stars,
but only my moon.

From a balcony of clouds
above me, the moon whispers
and throws a star.
Ah, but the moon shines as twice
as bright as the star it throws.

I would fly to heaven
just to be with my moon,
Where the silver beams
would color my hair white.

Oh, what a poem would I write
if I could make the moon
Mine, all mine ...

I saw the world through
eyes of glass.
Ghost, tall and thin.
What I can't see, please tell me.
- Little petals, white and rosy.
Flying in your garden
You really can't see the beauty
in everything,
I don't even think you can see me.
... But Cherry Blossom
on a moonlit night

You look like a light-colored satin
Stars f
          a
            l
              l on your caramel hair
Your laureate crown is permanent

You walk fast as a local feline
L'Empereur far from his throne
You look disoriented
You look tired

It's nightfalling
Resolution parts
The moon shines
Gold minds

Lace L'étoile
Jeune ace
Shiny sleeves

I go through a mirror
You're sitting in there
I hide carefully
Not to be alert
I have found myself again
Dreaming of you inside
The reflection of your mirror

At night my opal
                           sleeves are made of satin.

   - Codelandandmore// 6:00 PM ©

quietly, in the mornings
with only your fingers
shades tilted in, the lapis
dawn that barely makes
it through, door ajar
studied, an open book quiz
unmentionables, spoken in
water drops
melted butter
shower steam
vanilla
milk
cinnamon.

before the sun
before breakfast
before the earth opens up like it does
take it with a grain of salt, with an ounce of optimism
the glass ain't even here, we have lakes
we have amber canopies, other hands that shield
lovers that reach for us mid-dream, us
they reach for us in sleep induced affection,
they may as well be reaching across continents
who knows how far away they dream,
fingers sliding across cello strings
they make beautiful music while
they are here, traveling limbos to find us
but we're here in the morning, in the quiet morning.



how to eat honeycomb.

sleepless midnight
crisp evening air
turquoise darkness
figures, waiting
painted the dawn
swirling blue
dreams, pooling
caramel lullaby
vacant home
no longer alone