my skin —
so we may
my skin —
so we may
Your surface reflects
one that admires you most
like a small china teacup.
I delicately press my lips to your skin
warm full of the memories we brewed
I treasure you in my hands
because you’re too delicate
to fall apart on the tile
though I will always
to put your pieces
I stood on the porch and used my mug full
of coffee to warm my hands against the cool
morning autumn breeze that flirted with
my skin — both frigid and a tease — seeing
as it was a relief to the staring sun,
but so brisk the goose bumps began to invade.
I moved over to the bedroom and gazed
at the closet that had clothes oozing under-
neath the door, and the dresser drawers
dusty and damaged with items forgotten years
ago. I peered into the mirror as I saw
your eyes looking right back at me, I inhaled
another sip of the warm concoction, hoping
that it would soothe me as I dragged out some
cardboard boxes and packed up what was
once our home, then yours, and now no one’s.
The tears blended in with the carpet as
I sat on the floor amidst all that was you.
Forget walking on water, I coast
cloud to cloud ’cause I’m chasing
my dreams knocking on the door
of the man in the moon but nobody
is home so I create my own stars
since I’m bursting at the seams
because the fantasy isn’t going
to write itself; my pen is ready
in hand everything is permanent —
no erasing, no do overs
the past is done.
I don’t touch the ground
because gravity no longer holds
me down I’m too busy painting
the skies, decorating my destiny
concocting clouds with my own
In a corner among the fir bristles a stream
of hanging bells beamed as speckled sparkles
delicate prisms of red, green, and gold
a majestic jungle – a wild, tangible world
only a fingertip’s distance away.
I placed my hand on the window as if I might absorb
the contagious sweetness as a plant with roots so
desperate they tangle one another.
I cling to the memories
like stubborn frost on glass
as the hands of light slowly
tug it back down to the earth.
It was not so long ago
that you rested in my arms
and, I, in your heart.
Dazed sugar eagerly dusts a raindrop
desires to make snow – a delicate
calculated little concoction of crystals –
and call it family. Though it’s swallowed
dissolved, dispersed, and diluted
through the water, unsure of what
it once was. Still, it leaves
a sweet taste on the tongue.