Does a poem have to be thought out
does it take years to edit and perfect

Or can it be,
can it just remain,
a few simple, raw lines

He likes the clouds
Slowly shifting spinning circles showing
Shapes solely he sees

What beauty does he see
In a storm-cloudy mind
What form does he see
Fit to call me “perfect?”

I like the stars
Pictures cut through the night sky
I see as the past prescribes.

I do not know what he sees in me,
But how I love
His careful consideration
The wonder in his eyes

I guess I was amassing a collection
So I could show my children all the places I’ve ate

Like little milestones

All the places I’ve had dead end dates

All the places I’ve gorged myself
Having just got off work
Or just smoked a bowl
Either way I felt deserving of a feast

All the places I shared stories with friends
All the places we shared kisses before we went in

All the orange chicken I ate to help sober up
All the take out I ordered when we broke up
And that one place I found out I was allergic to shrimp and threw up

Yeah I remember it all
The egg rolls, the soup, the soy sauce
The painting of pandas or dragons
The red lanterns
All the motifs
You seemingly needed to run an establishment
Like this

There are the stand outs
The Lucky Star whose pork fried rice was just cut up Slim Jims
The Panda House who treated me less like a customer and more like a friend
If I didn’t come around, they would call and ask where I had been

It didn’t matter if it was in a mall or in my small home town
I always found comfort in this other culture’s food
So while I’m waiting for all those fountain cookies to come true
I guess I’ll look back over these dozen Chinese menus

sweet dripping and lush
in my tea and into me
honey in my veins

Cotton candy kisses
Your breath dissolves at the tip of my tongue
Sweet sayings slip away during pauses for air
Gold honey droplets swirl around in your eyes

A cool mint winter night
But together we are hot coffee with cream
The way our love fogged the windows like melted sugar glaze

Sweet

Sweet like the first box of chocolates I bought you
Sweet like those gummy worms you love so much
Sweet like caramel drizzled over an apple I would wait an hour in line to get you even when I don't like caramel apples

Sweet like you

A gust of wind
blows a lone leaf.
Without its roots
it solemnly flies;
Finding nurishment
in these new lands.
Tis a bitter sweet sentiment
for the wind
shall soon return
wisking away
the lonely leaf
and sharing it
with the world.

Every new place
brings new blessings.
A temporary warmth
that sooths
the soul.
It finds companions;
Yet truly
owns no home.
The moments are fleet
as a single heartbeat.
Another gust,
and again,
it flys alone.

Surely,
the lonesome leaf
shall one day sleep
beneath the trees,
Taking root
in a loving place
for it to keep;
Shrouded
by the stars.
Untill the day
it makes its way,
Forever
Wayward.