I used to believe I wanted to be like water.
Water that melds into any shape.
Water that is relaxing and peaceful.
Water that, when given enough time, can cut through anything.
But now I realize I want to be like fire.
Fire that gives warmth and comfort.
Fire that burns fast, creating its own path.
Fire that gives light in total darkness,
Giving you an opportunity to find your way out.
Water is used.
Fire is untamable.

my heart fell from my ribs
and the heavy, dense-packed air,
and into you,
my holy water;
you held me up.
when i couldn’t even lift myself.
please, my love, please
baptise me in your everything.
bind me to a world of sacred religion
where prayer is peace
and you are the god.
…i’ll worship you like water.

the grey against the blue sky,
      metal bars,
            power coursing,

it pokes high above the horizon,
      tall,
           mighty,
                     human,

nova scotia's hills don't rise up nearly as far,
     flat in all directions,
                  textureless, and
                                  so, so wide,

large trucks drive beside the tower,
      small,
            pathetic,

A bigger truck comes by, washed in red,
      loud,
            bright,
                    blaring,­
    
the smell of smoke upon the suits of the
     brave,
           the daring,

the big, blue, cloud-filled, wonderful sky,
       blue no longer,
                    their hope,
                             lost in minutes,

no death, yet so much smoke,
      smoke,
            like the swirl of sand in water,

the water sitting near the strong metal bars,
       the telephone tower,
                         still tall and mighty,

the water with the highest tides in the world,
       rippling hard,
                  against the rocks on shore,

orange buoys float roughly in the harbour,
     a line to never,
                     ever cross,

kids will boat out there with their paddles,
     the breeze knocking them,
             side,
                  to side,

and the world breathes in, for it holds all,
       good or bad,
                  and it is full,

full despite everything.

Atlantis

A body blessed
With perfection and purity.
A pond running
Down a village stream
With grace and beauty.
Sunlight drips like honey
Through the trees,
Into the warming body—
Nature’s purest creation.

The sun breathes
Warmth into the water.
Kids swimming
In the most loving
Bedtime story,
Putting their minds
To sleep—
Just for a second,
Entranced
By happiness—
So much so,
It almost feels
Like home.

An Atlantis
That never fell—
The only purity
Left in the world.

Birds awaken,
Turning silence into song.
Splashing sounds echo.
Lotus flowers bloom
On the surface,
Shedding sweet, scented petals
Into the water—
Feeling like,
There a relic
From the lost city of
Atlantis—
Reminding everyone
Of nature’s innocence.
The sweet scent
Reminds the children
Of a mother’s hug.

This is our Atlantis—
Our purest creation.

I cut it because,
I know that I I don’t.
A cold swollen body,
Won’t always float.
Saltwater’s more harsh,
It stings in my throat.
Traversing the seas
In a decommissioned boat

They say when the lungs,
Swallow it in,
You're taken over by calm,
Three scars on your shin.

“Throw her into the deep end,”
they said.
“She’ll learn to swim soon enough.”

Maybe she will,
but you know,
it won’t be easy
the tides will grasp her firm
and try to drag her under
her lungs will scream
she may wail
and desperately thrash
the tumultuous current will beat her down
her arms ache, so does her heart
she’ll sink once or twice,
wonder whether it’s worth the fight,
but with time
and I can’t say how much
she will gain strength
and slowly but surely
she will begin to swim against the current
claw her way back
to the shallow end
and she’ll be able
to look them all in the eye
scars bare, clothes torn
but a wicked smile.

I ooze despair
I leak despiration
it pools at my feet
warns others of the misery
till me soal does leave
my lifeless shell
my sagging skin

I watch you
you leave slowly
inching away
does guilt wrap you?
tether you still
close to me
the pool does drift you anyway
and away you go.

she calls me by my name,
and i answer without words—
only an offering:
a silent prayer,
bare skin,
a breath held,
a promise kept sacred,
to worship her.

she calls,
and i answer with stillness.
like dusk slipping
into the night—
utterly, completely—
pulling me apart
under the tears
of moonlight.

she calls
even as i soak
in her waves,
as they kiss my collarbone,
make heaven blush
when i fall to my knees,
laced around her soul.

her intention to claim me
was there from the start.
written in her whispers
******* my thoughts.
she never asked
what broke me.
only reached with rippled hands
to take my weight,
press it into the riverbed
like something malevolent,
already forgiven.