Pink

Cotton pink undertones
Close by with gentle age
She was creamy, so soft
My eyes sparkled as we met
Pixie baby looking all confused
Going for a ride with mine
I sit silent
I study her magic
The way her skin rainbows
The concern in her delicate sweet face when I leave

Tiny glass

My lover was passive

He was made of glass and

We didn’t appear full enough

Tried making eye contact in summer trees

Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees

Just tiny things playing make believe

Reason

I always come back to sadness

Maybe it’s a shape shifting anger

Maybe we’ve hung her; together

But it’s all I ever knew, it’s whom I make true intricate love to

I inflicted upon me paired with hesitations and soon to be’s

cause well maybe I’m human

I sink through all your deadly seas

I sort through my pieces of wool and used flannels and cloth

And I touch the human in every passerby knowing it’s never enough

I touch the heart that aches with stone burning parallels

I touch the mouths through mountains of victims as the dead sings farwells

I vow to be untouched

It’s not enough to breathe in and exhale my stomach, my liver; my heart

It’s hard enough to wake alert and dress up the rest with the earth’s hardened dirt

Soul tied to a suit and some layers that aren’t mine

But to most it’s fine, some say quite divine

I couldn’t harm a fly; I wish to kill a billion

And so

I harm the self that promises to let things go (let things sow)

Burdened by the death of each solitary season

Hands pressed in pulses pleading to be granted the sights of a hermits reason

Truth be told

Truth be told

My eyes have no trouble changing colors

The birds in fact taught them everything they know

How to hold and care with caresses

For the golds and rubies

Crossed in fits of tantrums

They swear to listen to me

Who has listened closely

Winners war

I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties

Newness

What news!

The arrival

And the departure

Both equal in value and pleasure

To the adventurous wondering soul

Close enough

I cried out mercy and an added hour
I sought out fairytales and provoked hallucinations to deter
Please reflect, deflect, respect my ignorance
I’ll never name it by bliss; terror neither though close enough