Her kisses were moonshine
and bullets, three shots
to the heart, like a rose
on the canvas of morning,
like art, an eyelash on a poem
that always makes me pause,
three xs at the bottom of a page.

I swear, we said
this is the most beautiful fall
of them all

that death
has never caught our breath
never made us say
why can't we all live this way?

How beautiful, we noticed
it is not to resist
being missed

to feel with the seasons
without questioning reason
and let time color the leaves
to dance in the breeze

How humbled, we felt
watching them fall to the street
knowing it would not be the last time we meet.

sweeter words
ne'er did
so much
damage

You live in,
A broken home,
With a shattered window,
And a disconnected phone.

You travel with,
Your broken feet,
With rough pathways,
Leading to a blocked off street.

You see through,
Black and white eyes,
With a look so unwelcoming, tiring,
As you're badly disguised.

You sing as,
A bird in the woods,
Soothing and caring,
But fading away from the neighbourhoods.

I listen to your broken voice,
On a broken street,
With your broken eyes,
Hearing your broken heart beat.

And now I'm slowly breaking,
Make room for me,
Because with you on a broken street,
Is where I'm destined to be.