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Literature Text
wishingwell boy
now is not the right place
for your snapdragon eyes
and a smell of summer
anchoring bones is a thing of the future
right here, i'm still a catkin
as the willow sways
now is not the right place
for your snapdragon eyes
and a smell of summer
anchoring bones is a thing of the future
right here, i'm still a catkin
as the willow sways
(i fell to the ground and no one knows
the softness of my touch)
the softness of my touch)
Literature
The Truth About Autumn
Indian summer eases into full-blown autumn
I put my jacket on for the first time since spring
And walk the path we used to walk
Alone now, the wind seems colder
The trees duller, quicker to lose their leaves
And bare the ugly truth between their branches
The truth that it was you who brought the colors
I pass by the pumpkins at the grocer's but do not buy
Literature
you turned harsh with the change of season
Salt stings icy cheeks
as bitter sea-mist blows
the lighthouse beckons.
Literature
Mediastinum
I found a poem caught
between your knucklebones
like a prayer flag. It carried
the music of mountains; the scent
of summer breeze and pink
lemonade blotting the windowsill
like the soil-stained memories
of childhood mischief we
share. Between the silence
and the taste of citrus sun bearing
down upon the laundry drying
on the clothesline, you let a sigh
slip, dragonfly wings barely resonating
on my skin. Our silhouettes
behind the sheets warmed
the solstice sky while we
gave each other time
to breathe.
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red lashes hitting grey cheeks
and we'll be us
then and there
and we'll be us
then and there
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Comments35
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i'm in love with those words.