~
Bring your whirlwinds with you;
in the snow angel summer
bring Margot the sun.

In the hour of red glare
a rush to pick slowberries
before getting caught up in the silk.

Prisms, mirrors, lenses!
strategies for combatting visibility:
keep your eyes closed,
face away from the window.

The myriad threads of people in hiding,
they eat their own web each day,
and yet something always shines
in the heart's secret annex.

Men and women are
separated from each other,
the girls are on a train
to the Bergen-Belsen,
"white founts falling
in the courts of the sun."

Margot now cries quietly;
so silently she weeps over
sunshine and hate.
~

Hope is when
The darkness persists
But the sun may rise
At any minute now.

I feel it most when he’s gone,
At first it doesn’t feel like much
But the bruise on the cheek where he kissed me
Only gets sweeter to the touch

Like salt left on skin
From a swim in the sea
The remnants of him
On my body debris

My heart is bleached
By the sun of him
When he leaves, I’m still his
Every bone, every limb

Wow, his eyes sound absolutely beautiful!
I can only imagine the mesmerizing colors that can be seen in them. It's understandable why you feel like getting lost in them.
It would be so easy.
The comparison to the ocean is so fitting,
I can picture the way his eyes shine
Like the sun setting over calm waters.
Interestingly, you would want to see the world from his point of view,
Perhaps there's something special about the way he sees things.
But I can also understand why you might be hesitant
To look too deeply into his eyes,
It sounds like they hold a lot of depth and emotion.
Nonetheless, his blue eyes have left quite an impression on you.

at some point, you just know that
you have got to let them go

of the first time we connected
all those memories we both established
those quirks, my quirks
and remained are flaws, irredeemable flaws

of the places we visited
and of the places that could have been
they now remain as stolen dreams
and retain in them, nightmares born
to its deserving king

of the ideas and lies that
perpetuated my thoughts
to you and for you
like a love that stalks rather
than one you wish I would have

of you
he who once was the sun to me
whose smile was solace like the moon
and though, most probably, it was all built in lies
it was something, truly moving
but remains in the sky, was nothing

that is why these things have to go
the stains that once belonged
and in their places are impressions, gone
what now remains, if they wish to remain,
are dreams that turned into nightmares
ghosts that I long ignored
love once harbored
and... you

I'm often asked by friends afar
What was that bright and shining star
That led me to this place of joy
To truly savor this, my rather special toy.

Was it the palm trees swaying in the breeze,
The cheeky Pelicans skimming waves with ease,
Florida's sun beaming brightly morn to dusk,
No need of taking weather Gods to task.

Miles of sand flanking the beach side road,
Reflections of my sportscar sleek and broad,
Cutting the air with startling grace
A glorious rumble heralding its pace.

Heads turning then blinded by the sheen,
A glimpse of Its lustrous body powerful and lean,
What better way to pass a perfect day
So far from all that usual fray.

Harmony and peace can come in many forms,
No need to heed convention, stated norms,
This passion shared by us the few,
Underneath that sky of blinding blue.

in the end, I am declared
guilty

to be free from the chains of contrivance
to finally rely on noble companions
from facade to its truths
born flowers will bore fruit

to be requested release
and to forever deny its reprise

to be loved, and finally to love
and matters not that never mattered
past chains perish, and the future followed
as warm as the sun
forever cursed to bear the fervor

to be chained,

to be denied and drought
as I have done to he
as the moon without its sun

at the start, the only crime committed
was being me

I settle on a seat distant from the world and my life
Here I observe the souls of those overcome with strife  
Settling on a bench sheltered with fallen flowers
from the shivers of trees recovering from nighttime terrors
Red plaid shorts damp beneath me
A book sprawled open on my lap watching with pure envy
as my eyes trace a phrase my mind is quickly trapped in
"its the truth even if it didn't happen"
I experience the sun blaze its rays down onto my thighs
Drawing crimson marks with my nails, I analyze
There's a strange sense of comfort in the burning sensation
The fear of not knowing what to expect consumes my self isolation
The unknown lingers in my mind, crimson now engrossed
I can always trust that the sunlight will never stop sizzling sunburnt skin
So instead of cursing the pain, I find it sublime
for it is the most secure I've felt in a long time

I live my life
with the blindness of the sun
searing days with nuclear rays
burning, burning, everyone