Nina pranced about
the lush green grove.
The pitter patter of her footsteps
like raindrops on the ground,
and her movements,
like a fog rolled through a valley.  
A white satin leotard
decorated with flowery lace patterns
A tutu that blossomed
from her slender waist.  
Hair elegantly tied back into a bun.
Face, filled with symmetry, lightly made up with powder.
Her cheeks flushed with a pinkish red blush,
but natural like her lips of pomegranate red.  

The grove,
short deep green ryegrass that rolls over the lumpy ground like moss.
Trees shade like many arms shielding many eyes.
The pure white light of the sun shone through the canopy in beams.
Nina danced furiously intent and
music box intricately
in and out of the beacons of light
as a ballerina should following a lifetime of training.

i miss the dog-days of summer, the air static and full of noise. i miss the lightening that makes my heart skip a beat and the sweat that forms on my brow and down the rivets of my spine as i laid with you in your bed. i miss cooling the hot pads of my feet in the tap water of your kitchen sink and when you’d lean in for a kiss i could smell the salt on your skin before tasting it on my tongue. i miss tank tops, cotton dresses, and the hum of ceiling fans with the cicadas buzzing into their crescendos as the breeze slowly shifts the heaviness of the air from one corner of the room to another. we’d find sanctuary in lake michigan and solace in burying our bare feet between the bristles of ryegrass in the park. i miss the sizzle and pop of rain pounding the blistering asphalt and fingers and lips sticky from melted ice cream cones.

1 march, 2013

Another day of never sun, a leaden heap that frowns above
Whilst the few tangled answers quiver rhymelessly as it trifles
In other ways, however done, instead, a sleep encrowns its love
And the dew-spangled branches shiver timelessly as the sky falls

The paper lanterns on the wall betray the leaves’ seat in the dark
And the cool ochre gloaming spurs a telling and frail ardour
Now vapour cantons over all display the eve’s sweet watermark
And a cruel joking moan occurs, impelling the rainfall harder

I linger by my window pane as twilight reddens every mote
And I stay, candid; I pass days compliantly standing upright
My finger spry discinds the rain and yea, night deadens every note
And a stray strand of ryegrass sways defiantly in the half-light