In twilight realms where masks adorn like stars,
The moon casts her glow most tenderly
Upon those who dance unadorned by pretense,
Their radiance deemed too bright for mortal eyes.
Your empathy—a garden of midnight blooms,
Protected by the trellis of sacred boundaries,
Not to wither beneath harsh judgment's sun,
But to preserve your light for worthy wanderers.

Those who carved rivers of sorrow in your soul
Yet deny the waters flowing from their hands
Cannot offer reconciliation's sweet nectar.
Peace resides not in their distant approval,
But sleeps beside you, faithful as moonlight,
A companion through your darkest hours.
The distance woven between pain and present
Is gossamer silk that must not be torn.

Breaking patterns is the dance of dawn,
The first light dissolving night's heavy chains,
Your silhouette fading like morning mist
From doorways where love never flourished.
In authenticity dwells your freedom's poetry—
No longer folding your boundless spirit
Into shapes too small to hold your vastness,
Standing unveiled in your own sacred truth.

Touch not the fragile wings of survivors in flight—
Their path traced through storms of betrayal,
The space they've claimed between wound and healing
Is hallowed ground won through countless tears.
Make peace with misunderstanding's shadow,
Release the weight of constant explanation,
For your truth blooms most beautifully
When nurtured in soil that welcomes its roots.

You know I write my love songs
and my poems
when everything feels wrong
when there's pain
I feel it all
it makes my skin crawl
into a ball of unwritten words
I must let fall onto paper

So I sit here and I feel bad
that every note pad isn't about you
it's about him or her
and love and other blurs
but never about you
and all your hues

I want to explain why
if I may
You and I
Red and purple
passionate and secure
deep and for real
you have never made me feel
pain
never made me kneel
or strain
you have always been
my place
my home
the one who will never roam

I think that's beautiful
but maybe I need to say it more
write about you on the floor
write about our love on every door
but I only seem inspired to write
while crying on the floor

You have never left me bruised
or sore
never left me seeking more
we are together
in perfect harmony
it's never a bore
You and me are
as Taytay said
Forevermore

So I write this poem to you
my best friend
my sister
my soul mate
and my favorite person
I love you
and I think you know
every day with you
to me is like
dancing in the snow

I can tell you about a detailed bridge,
                from the way it shakes, all the way
                to the breeze and the crashed out waves.
How all the engraved lockets weighed it down,
  and how all the concreted initials debossed into       heart shape cutouts,
                                         that have all corroded apart.

I can tell you the wait for the split,
                            wasn’t really worth it.
                            tiaw eht lla woh
                            .ekats ta saw taht gnihtyreve dellik

                                                 I talk a lot about Icarus
                                                 and how his fall off
                                                 can be measured as a                                                                ­                              
                                  ­               plummet of a                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                     
                           ­                      depressed life willing                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                          to jump across the                                                              ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                      bridge, time being that                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                       feeling of limitless.
              
               Burnt out, driving too close to the sun.
               We’ve found the doors were locked
               and uncovered that the key was
               ringed around on the soul
               of someone else's heart.
              


                                                ~ A few imprints
                                                             on
                                                  Love’s Overpass

Don’t touch the soul! It is alive!
It can remember a great deal!
Its memories are like a hive.
Don’t touch the soul! It is too leal!

Don’t worm into the soul rudely
Like in a thicket, breaking twigs.
Just listen, how it's drawly groaning!
Attend to its so silent pleas!

The soul is tortured! Please, don't touch it!
If you can’t love, just pass it by!
Don’t touch the soul! I pray, don’t break it!
The soul hurts! Don’t let it die!

...gentle breezes
rung the wind chimes
of two hearts
pulsing
for freedom
chorused ecstacy
tickled
the goosepimples
of breathy lovers
caressing
their love-slick bodies
oil
of romance
dripped
sizzling
'pon the ground
of their windswept haven
their sighs
matched the melody
the hollow sighs
of our earth's lungs
for they
were the energy
sustaining
love
and giving atmosphere
to worlds
untold...

of birds

this morn

anchor my soul

this day, this life

these sounds of grace


thank you thank you

to feathers and wings

all those who sing

bring in this sun

this light, this

ray of

love

The colours of the world once danced for me,
But now they stand, all grey, though if they moved I’d barely see
Music painted dreams that nourished my soul,
But now it drowns the turmoil I can't control

Who knows what I am seeing while I sleep and why my mind never allows me to remember but the fall
maybe its for my protecrion
the mind and the heart wants me here,
the soul wants to drift
to find other souls
people I ve never forgot
or lost
but laws of reality must be obeyed
and I must remain
here
maybe thats why travels never exited me this much
maybe I travel by moonlight too much
an old soul
I ve been around
A breath away