Because i am lawn furniture

And you are Antarctica

The two of us have ample rime

But not a single drop of warmth in our blood

We lived through all the bright nameless, blameless places

And the turning of the *****

The year we fell down

In an illusion of separateness

Is where we came to know

The fragile silence

Within a map of echoing glass

Pointing further out than we once thought

Everything ravaged, everything burned

A lost black and white picture
-Misplaces forever
A protruding tree in a pond
-Endlessly drowning

But I showed you a strong face
Yes, I showed you a lie
I thought for you to leave in peace
It was necessary for my burden
To find a place to hide

Home in your eye veered north
A rebel endeavor to outrun
The fire that is your skin
Like a shooting star

A star that had to die
For my unremarkable eye
To catch a glimpse of light
Teaching me how to say

-Goodbye

The staircase that leads to her heart has no hand rails. No grab bars. You must measure your steps carefully, finding the right balance between what you want from her and what she really needs from you.

Vague,
the expression of response
in a relentless jade,
conjuring up primevals
risen from her house arrest.
She lives through the days of tension
by her own fortitude,
clutching to her privacy
as if a means of escape
to which she can be locked within.
Mendacious moments,
walking towards a primrose path,
allude her to try and smile.
But she knows she need not pretend,
for just as her hair falls casually
over her face,
she winces her pain
into a controlled tremble.
Proposed to glide under
freshly minted skies,
in words filled with undertone
and in serenades
softly played by calendar
chimes.

Rain on a flower
Rain on me
The sky has a plan
Tomorrow you will see
The sun shine again
In light of today's dream