Nothing to write
Nothing to say
Nothing that inspires
No thoughts gone astray

For weeks on end
I haven't entered this site
Nothing came to mind
I simply could not write.

But now my pen is fresh
With new ink, to stay
Now I have reason to write
Now I have things to say.

she’s sweet like wasabi
and wicked like cinnamon.
she sleeps alone and she lives alone,
but she has the trees and the dirt and the birds,
so she isn’t really alone.
there’s ivy vining its way up her legs,
and cobwebs collecting around her chest,
but she holds hope like an amulet,
like someday someone will brush them away.
breathing isn't always easy for her
because she still carries the moon in her chest,
so she's got a heartbeat like a hex.
she’ll spider her way into your heart,
but before you know it she’ll disappear.  
she’ll be here as long as she can,
but she’s dangerously human.

And as we part
Has time ever stopped
As when two arms extended
With finger tips touching
In the instant
Of a lifetime
That will forever be remembered
And cherished
More than the love making
Because in the sorrow of parting
The longing in our eyes
Is felt deeper
Than any touch
Or embrace
Or memory
For the moment
That I step out the window
Before gravity
Before reality
I fly
And live
As never before
And never again