The wind braided my hair,
It called me beautiful,
And perhaps in the wind’s eyes I am.
But when I looked in the mirror
I saw a tangled mess atop my head.

Dancing, you are Spring;
Birds flock to see your song, yet
Night falls and silence-

Silence but for the
Stars and moon who mock us in
Our bed, our Winter.

Black Lilacs
blooming -

a blossoming
of grief -

dark fallen pollen
on the breeze -

I can see it falling
all around me -

there on the wall
for us to see -

April will be
the cruelest of them all.

we got married in a small church
outside a big city,
a building that saw better times,
surely,
but got on the time's bad side.
we believed that love could save us,
that love would set us free;
and a few years later
woke up, like strangers,
on the separate sides
of one bed.
where did that love go?
when did it disappear?
one doesn't walk
into the same river twice,
but falls for the same flaws,
same vices.
we shared our vows in a small church
outside a big city,
naive,
wrote them with our hopes,
tied them with gold.
a few years later,
where did that love go?

she never spoke

sat on the floor
and played

with silver stones
made them dance

in circles

sparkling under
the lights

her voice was
a melody

of soft sounds

she never needed
words

to make sense of
everything around her

and everyone around
her understood

past
          innocence

                             present
                                       frustration

                                                          Future
                                                                         unknown