#relationahips
~
*Eulogy of the heart
in a locket around her throat
all the little memories
of sun and moon
of wind and rain
recited by bruised lips
that took the euphony
of his kisses
to mean him a lover
of such beautiful things
but will-o'-the-wisp was he
as so mistaken was she*
~
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 8:47 AM UTC
In The Rest Of My Life
He Needs To Be
Nothing More Than
A Distant Memory...
8/12/19
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 1:53 PM UTC
You are singing silence out in the yard,
the newly empty nest hanging overhead,
like cliché clouds of grey, foreboding so.
Twee words feather dust the ironclad guard
with your feelings locked in its bear trap jaws,
hold them long enough and they will starve.
Stoicism has its cost.
Oh Ghost bird, how can I fix what is wrong
if the tune is subdued? Sing it slow.
Let the words bend at the edges,
allow your voice to crack and crow.
There is beauty in its breaking,
a love in the nakedness of it all.
...
Muted light shown though like saltwater
spraying through holes in the canopy’s hull,
kissing your eyelids with a warm familiar glow.
Twisting paths of gnarly branches pass
towards either dark clouds or blue skies
and you are drowning under all its mass.
Confusion has its cost.
Oh Ghost bird, how can I fix what is wrong
if the tune is subdued? Sing it slow.
Let the words bend at the edges,
allow your voice to crack and crow.
There is beauty in its breaking,
a love in the nakedness of it all.
...
I meet you underneath the dogwood tree,
arms around arms, my forehead against yours
the rain now falling ever so softly under the sun.
I am pleading, let go the injured doe, yelping there
in the grasp of your iron bite and in the daylight
let go of what holds you in the dark of night.
Romance has its cost.
Oh Ghost bird, how can you fix what is wrong
if the tune is subdued? I’ll sing it slow.
Let the words bend at the edges,
allow my voice to crack and crow.
There is beauty in its breaking,
a love in the nakedness of it all.
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC