Yellow congregation
Discusses their front lines
Lawn mower arrives

I pick dandelions
in the early spring
when I think of you
She loves me . . .

I cut the rose blooms
in the summer morn
And I am pricked
by the remembrance of you

I walk in the autumn gold
as I shuffle with the agony
of the memory
Yes I do

Now in my winter's demise
I wrap the cloth of your smile
around the cold heart's desire
that I once had for you

There will be no dandelions
this spring
No roses this summer
No leaves of autumn's color
Without the smile of you

My mom
Tells me I'm a gift.

She says love
Is what keeps the atoms
In you and I
Is the moment
She caught my
Father's eye
Is the day
My grandfather died
With a candy kiss on his cheek
She had never tasted something so sweet.

When we were little
We played kickball,
The ground is lava
And hide-and-go-seek.
As I grew I knew most days,
It was harder to find myself;
Let alone somebody else.

And I have been around
Enough center city playgrounds
To see the rich
Pump every bit of spare change
In their veins fighting
A cancer that they
Never learned to put in their past.
To see the poor
Wage wars with themselves
Trying to pick up
Way too much,
Way too fast;

Nobody really knows how to make love last.

So put your prism your heart
Beneath the moonlight.
Refract the wavelengths
Of your wonders
Into ROYGB-eautiful like the sea,
It took a lot of jellyfish to let
people see through me.

And even more mirrors
To find a place I was comfortable
Praying in.

Fraying in doorways
Where I learned hope,
Is looking both ways
On a one way street
Cause it can be so easy to thank God
While you still have bread to eat.

I have never prayed
So hard for a healthy meal
Than the days I remember
The heart is a muscle;
And sometimes the only
Thing we need
Is to "work it out."

And I know that some days,
My doubt hangs my
Smile like Jesus Christ
I never quite learned
How to bleed right.

But if there's one thing
I found from cleaning
The crosses out of the
Empty hallway of my character
Is that you haven't experienced loss
Until you've held two outstretched arms
For years waiting for your innocence to come back.
Nothing, weighs more than the guilt of your past
And nothing throws punches
Faster than the ghost of who you used to be.

And I know it's hard
To stop looking for yourself
Under every bed you
Left nightmares in
And I know it's hard
To be comfortable
In your own skin

But sometimes bars
Aren’t the only thing
That builds a cage
And sometimes
The only way to live
With yourself
Is to stop digging
Your own grave.

You can spend years
Listening to morticians
And never get grounded.
Surrounded by the
Square roots we all share,
By the same air,
We've all got to learn to let go.

To learn that
Holding your breath
Has never been how
Living things
Learn to
Grow

it is 9:24
and the
insecurities of you haunt me
like gray skied-snowflakes
I wish I could crush them
in my yellow-white teeth
till they are powdery
turned into a powerless narcotic
diet soda tastes sweeter
than regular
spilling onto the seat of the car
I ordered it anyway
it's raining and there are
diet coke kisses on my
tongue
cloudy raindrops on
my forehead
dandelions in
my eyes

Her words fell
Like the limbs of a
Dandelion
Departed;
Once a breath per
Echoed meme
And come another dream
With every
Feather’s frolic.

The lips within this
Captured moment
Flutter and fall,
Dismal and drunk,
Like the butterfly prior winter;
An excuse,
And she deserved better.

So to, I’ve learned to meander
One
Simple
Breath,
Be it the gasp, “final,”
Parallel and the very same
She’d blow and blow and
Scatter seed with.

And I’d love her
Just as much,
If only years ago,
But now carry forth,
Lash atop knowing “flee,”
Merely inched
And adjusted winds.

It’s a “later”
Sort of tale atop tongue,
And idea coined “alive,”
Albeit moments before born,
So much closer to
“Never-end,”
Resonant, if only –

Her dandelion’s dream
And soon to be later patches
Green;
Come the grass,
Come the amnesia,
Come the cold,
Oh girl!
Come the day we both knew
I’d leave.

Lonely
I'm burning under your skin
I'm drowning in a tide of your blood
I love you with my fingers, with my teeth,
With coral hollows of my neck,
And
You don't even know it.
Maybe you don't need to know
That I'm eating you
Like unwashed strawberries.
Quietly, I'm spreading you
Over my lips,
I'm melting you on my taste buds,
I feel you gliding down my throat,
And ruling down my bowel,
You are twitching of surprise with
My every bite.
Covered with coconut flour
You are resting on my thighs,
You do not read my mind because for that
It takes more than a touch
Something decorated with Baroque epithets,
Hidden in the meadow with dandelions,
Something that is not ours and should not ever be spoken.
I drink you like wine left in the sun,
I sleep in the corners of your moves,
And
You don't even know it.

Maybe you don't need to know.

Dandelions are the most independent flower.
They grow where they want.
No one plants them.
They’re free.
They’re infinite.
I felt infinite picking them in the apple orchard with you.
We were free.
We were infinite.  
I couldn't handle my smile watching you,
Rip them out of the earth by the handfuls.
Your face was covered in sunshine and pollen.
It might have been the pollen that resembled sunlight.
Regardless,
You emitted the sun in a way I've never seen before.
I refuse to accept that dandelions are weeds,
Because I want to be a dandelion with you.

Cars all driving off
To work in a rush,
For fear of missing the same
Old thing.

Wind is desperately
Trying to move me,
But it isn't going to do
A thing.

Things all running,
Rushing, flying out to see
New places, but never stay
So long to look.

We could all be
Going somewhere,
If we stayed
A while to look.

Look at the footprints,
Running through the
Grass, all so
Unaware.

Trying to mark
Something, somewhere.
But where? Well they're
Unaware.

Unaware of the world
Turning us where it
Disappears

Holding onto dandelions
Thinking maybe I could
Disappear

we so easily pluck weeds from the garden
because the look unruly and don’t go with the tulips
but in life
we don’t segregate the suicidal, emotional, and unstable
because they are that way
from the steady breathers
we are a world of dandelions
with a rare tulip