Right now, if you're feeling devoured by pain,
Remember that there was a drop of rain.
And because of this rain, a flower grows
And because of that flower, a girl's smile glows.
And because of that smile, a kiss is shared.
And because of that kiss, a bond is repaired.
And because of that bond, a new life comes to be.
And because of that life, this poem you see.
Because of this poem, I hope you feel warm
And know that I'm so very glad you were born.
In fact, I would love to come hug you, my Dear.
Please know that I'm so very glad that you're here. 💖

Her fears couldn't catch up to
the warm cinders collapsing in darkness
wildfire coursing through her veins

You’re pale year-round,
though you have a new warmness beneath it.
With complete faith in the universe,
You are growing beautifully.

A kiss given when
                  the lips are

cold.

I stare into there void less  eyes,
           but my touch is warm.

with the others,
a tiny flame burned,
then went out.
she felt cold ashes,
which choked her spirit.

with him, and only him,
a flame consumed her,
and it continues to burn.
she feels a warm glow,
which frees her spirit.

Flow through my dry hair,
Enrich me with your strength,
Kiss me on my cheek softly,
And let me grow into a grove over you.

i enjoy england

with its little houses
hips brushing, faces smushed
together to revel in quaint rumour
among gentrified lilies and pink
lady apples that blush in the summer

its walkways and alleys
dribbles of soft lamplight guiding
the drunkard, moth-brained and ill
with silk threads to a blind spot
of amber where muck can be spilled

the people on transport
with their airy talk, their mindless
silence, heads lolling idly on
windows, eyes crumpling like napkins
against the leaking crumbs of warm scone sun

pretty little England
where exploitation is vintage
and runs like rosé
down the dusty store windows

here we are free to stumble
down streets with sweat
in our hair and manic karaoke
reverberating off the walls
glee drinking is government protected

I'm quite in love with england,
this field of dew and white roses
fed by gore and sweet tradition
where fresh-faced, sunny children play.