I was never the period to your story.                                
A pause, a storm before your glory.
                                  
Our part now history,                                                         ­   
the ifs to our theory.

You’re what a woman should be,                                      
No shamelessness, no indecency.                                      

But I couldn’t give up my religion.                                      
We knew the risk, ‘twas my decision.  
                              
I’ll forever cherish our time together.                                
The nights, days, drives I’ll remember.                              

Months felt like a lifetime with you.                                  
A life we both outgrew.

What a lucky guy he is.
Tying the knot is what you wished.

I’m happy for you.  
You deserve happiness, it is due.

You’ll never get to read this,
But if you somehow see this..

I want to say that I’m glad you’re happy.
Wish you the best, a life without worry.

This is the last poem for and about you.
Best wishes! Goodbye and thank you.

The angel's nose is in the dirt.
His sacrifice apparently saving us to our grief.
He lies there broken for us, prayerfully still,
there for the sake of the children,
for the sake of decorum,
protecting us from the accidental,
from the potential risk of an angelic fall
crushing the griever as they stoop
to place their flowers.

My sister chose the flower arrangement
from the top table of her daughter's wedding
where the fallen should have been
and perhaps could have stood
giving a heart-felt and gently humorous speech,
offered a toast to beauty and happiness,
but instead lies emotionless

in the dirt.

Dad did it unnoticed
I was his princess
he fulfilled all my wishes
and I had no suspicion

We moved to France
I didn't have much to do
besides my lessons, enough
time for Eddie, a nice boy

I had the age
and suddenly it went fast
the engagement, the secret
of the rings, tailor, hairdresser

and then finally the wedding
Afterwards, I asked questions
Mama taught me that there is more
than the things that happen to us

more than what goes wrong
between people, we walked
away from the men
and counted our blessings

You are the Love that I Remember,
You melt me through Aeons of Winter.
You make me the blazing Djinn,
You make me the Christ without Sin.

You are the Cure for The Cold
and my love is like Footsteps in Snow.
Where I follow with Feather and Rose.
To give you my Heart and my Soul.

You are the Love that I Remember.
You are the Love that I Recall,
You are the Spirit of my Crossing,
You tie me in Beautiful Woes.

You are the Essence of Color.
Also the midnight cruiser.
You are the spring fawn,
and its your laughter that makes me grow.

You are the will of the bright.
You are the source of my spiritual writing.
You make me the king in blessings.
Blessings of virtue and light.

You are the love that I remember,
the truth and the love that is tender.
You are the ocean of responsibility,
that I pick up when reason is withering.

You are the quintessential virtue.
That all there is to know is full.
The fullness you supply, I imbibe
these virtues; with intimacy, grace and time.