I plan to have a lazy day.

I start by waking up and stretching.
I push my body into my comfy mattress and smile.
It feels good to lay around and feel the sun from my small window on my face.
It's a lovely day out. I smile again.
Then my feet hit the floor and the day begins.
So, right after I:

Shower-------get dressed
Wash the Dishes
Clean my bedroom
Clean my bathroom
Vacuum
Mop the Kitchen floor
Do 4 loads of laundry
Pick up some groceries
Put them away
Take out the trash
Then prepare a weeks worth of lunches to take to work...........

I plan to have a lazy day.

If I ever have a chance to love again, I choose you
Wait for me, I’ll find the truth
Freedom is such a short flight away
I love you, but I can’t stay

Oh, how the taste of rush on my tongue, burns
But your face makes love
With my mind
It yearns, for you
If I ever have a chance to love again, I choose you

Fate prays for our embrace
Million stars in the sea
But none will take your place
You and me, it’s destined to be
If I ever have a chance to love again, I choose you

I’ll break down if we never, come to be
Why do I run away from
The one engraved so deeply in me?
If I ever have a chance to love again, I choose you

Am I a cowardly tiger
Whose stripes are forever,
Or am I a delicate flower,
Wilting to be together?
If I ever have a chance to love again, will I choose you?

i am singing soft pinks,
after my too bold reds;

i mean,
maybe, my great, round bursts of
clumsy heart
didn't bruise as sweetly
as i'd hoped.

i haven't a thing against
climbing to middleground;

my lips are left
less chapped.

--

I am a
yet, wild queen -
learned-head bowed
low.

heart lifted

-in anticipatory gusts
of questions,
peppered with thanks,
for the inner knowing,
melding into my all-

to the heavens, above,
lifting up fervent
pleas and blessings:

thanks, for the continuing cycle
that continued
long enough
for me to believe
and is continuing,
even still -

this was something
different.

not singing after?
but, softening to?

this feels much,
much more like home.

we're starched,
ironed, tailored
and hemmed,
expunged of
the extraneous.
cut down to size,
sprayed through
a stencil, and
molded to fit.
stamped and
cookie-cut,
branded
and broken.
no place for a square
in a city of circles.
no, no place at all.

1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

Someone
is lifting people from my life
between blinks,
stripping familial faces from earth
as erasable ink images,
one
by
one---
gum drops plucked,
as soulless grapes

no longer fruitful,
absence multiplies---
divided by youthful apparitions,
stunted ambitions,
and
sorrow

Someone
is whittling my family tree
with tomorrow’s steady hands
so quickly my name rises to the top,
as cream
scraping heaven with barefoot screams

while innocence weeps