Sweet sipping sounds
And notes of vanilla bean
Wrapped up in the Monday migraine
With little left to do than lie in bed

But this is not the bother
The warm morning soup fills bellies
Until all senses direct to feet in slippers
Then work boots
Then frigid temperatures

No, not to give into the call of society
But to edit its intensity
To choose not to leave quite yet
To choose to indulge in a sunrise’s delight

We are not meant to leave this safe space
Of brown blankets and lavender
We are meant to cultivate it as a garden
So that we may blossom into a new tomorrow

You’re the type that I want to be,
Poetic,
the type that talk in dainty words that always mean so much,
too much,
You have that part of you,
the black nail polish and red rose,
part of you,
that's the part I fell in love with first,
Small,
without trying,
you dress like you belong with the stars,
I bet you taste like the milky way,
Maybe,
it could be the way you talked about love,
it made me want to hold your hand,
You,
always covered in glitter,
california sun-kissed skin,
but you sounded like those “bad neighborhoods” in New York,
the ones that aren’t really that bad,
that’s where I want to be,
Spinning,
Dizzy in the parking lot,
you make me feel like eating cookie dough,
you make me feel like eating,
Music,
notes somehow surround you,
I wondered what it felt like to swallow them whole,
makes me feel like buying vinyl records,
just to feel you closer,
Lavender,
scented perfume we got from your mom,
thinking about elementary school crushes,
before we found out we couldn’t,
we did, maybe you didn’t, I did,
Sipping chocolate milk and replacing her with him in every love poem,
Her,
it was you,
I wanted it to be you,
it was never really you in the end,
Love,
the way you loved me,
best friends playing hide and seek with neighborhood kids,
Dark,
I got too close,
this time it was in the dark,
whispered apologies that I meant but you didn’t,
Change,
I did, you never did,
and oh how I waited for you,
to change I mean,
but you continued on as an unwritten love poem.
Me,
I want to be the type that can love myself,
the ways you didn’t,
the same ways I loved you,
too.

No, I do not hate Hermione Granger.
The love of my love just brings a sharp ache.
I wept for the loss in my teen-aged brain.
How I wish I'd lived to grow past this pain.

Alas I'm gone, in a sweep of the claws.
My legacy no more than a forgotten flame.
I had so much to offer, so much to give
but I suppose not all tales end in a grin.

Thickly glossed upon a lip, such honey pours for me.
The sweetest scent of Lavender, so falls upon your cheek.
Gaze of blue, with shade of white, bore through the heavy clouds.
The thought of you, though gone tonight, is all I am allowed.

A head upon your shoulder, where lies your auburn waves.
A kiss upon your chest, through which my heart conveys.
Lavender and honey, such a scent that makes me shiver.
Lavender and honey, wishing so to hold you nearer.

Locate the last lavender sprig
You'll find her blossoming in the field
Swaying gracefully in a sea of wind and light
You'll be able to smell her hypnotic, earthy aroma
Find her and cherish her beauty

Be patient, he will come
His jubilant dance will give you joy
The brilliance of his character will fill you
Allow him to carry your radiance
and bring more beauty to this world

Together.

What does love look like today?

Today love looks like sweet, sultry music...
I feel myself a child of the moon,
Dancing with wine in her hands.
I feel like lavender and honey,
Sweet and attending to
Your breathing,
Your melting,
Your heavy...
Like skin on skin
Like oil on canvas
Like chocolate candles
Like running all over each other...