twelve - Late
aren’t we late,
for a date with the moon?
we tend to this kindling
hoping embers grow to flames
long lasting and seen through valleys of mountains
everlasting and evercloser
thirteen - Pinks and Yellows
The pinks and yellows remind me of what love is,or what it should be.
or maybe just a love so short
I didn’t have a chance
to accidentally hurt you.
like i typically do.
fourteen - Ocean’s Fate
the infinite wisdom of stars,
or how inevitable waves are
sometimes we conjure intricate curves
of feminine strength and masculine delight
shaded by falling moon
and laugh until rising sun
Goodbye, my Moon.
We knew we’d run out of night by April dawn.
But I’m not hungry for breakfast
or Ocean’s Fate just yet.
So can we just tend to our
fading star just a bit longer.
fifteen - What is Love But Intentional Desire?
you paint. if not, then what else?
twenty portraits, in fact, drawn
again and again
as you remake yourself
to become yourself
when I return to my home
far too far from yours
I write twenty poems
one for each day I loved you.
I remiss this time, this place, this us.
arrangement of consonants
glued by melody of vowels
But always a poorly rendered imitation
not even close to what it felt like
to be next to you.
this latest one is called
“What is love but intentional desire?”
sixteen - Aging
sometimes i feel this young eyewill only cataract with time
like shower door blurs, like aging blade dulls
not something that glasses will fix
perhaps if i knew how to fight it i would
seventeen - My Forever Line
i'll lay down my brush
and draw the line that never ends
i'll follow soft curve of my breasts
down to my chipped pinky toe
ink black as night
visible in sunrise that lasts forever
where lonely clouds
change shape, form
borrow each others colors
but hide when sun slips above skyline
brush will lift at times,
almost lift off canvas
but hang on, even if by a single thread
bird has dared venture
or died
here i will fall
fall like a leaf like arrow like i do
its 5 am.
i share quiet solitude
with love stories that began last night
but not mine
it's 5 am. wake up. its time to live
the shadows are only getting shorter
good morning my moon
say hi to her for me, will you?