Made Up

I feel insincerity
in each blink of your lashes
as muscles cringe;
your arms lightly draped
around my neck.

Love must have fallen
somewhere along the way;
exited abruptly

like the red of your smile.



Return To Sender part 2 (Older With Thicker Skin)

I can’t sleep with such an uneasiness in the room.

I see a film playing my life; slide after slide
without you,

but I was too young to know, then;
too innocent to realize rejection,
to feel inadequacy tap me on the shoulder
like it does now, everytime I see your face
staring back at me

questioning why I never met your expectations
even though you never attempted to know me
or feel the warmth of my heart,

the loyalty of someone
who would have always had your back.



Last Dance

The light shifts, flickers,
spins its web ‘round her tresses,
blushes whispers between them;

lips connecting the dots,
pulling close the tendrils
that encompass sanguine attempts
at something that looks like love,

but tastes a little like regret
sprinkled with powdered puffs
of last night’s perfume

to make impossible taste sweet.


After the Tears Run Out

I hear myself echo,
and dreams
seem to slip through my fingers
like sand did
when we were smiling.

Late, when I let my hair down;
when feelings fall,
lips form your name-
the only name
that touches me;
moves mountains,
sways treetops

with a sigh of wind.

I can’t take a step
without the calm of you;
the tenderness of your grace
upon limp shoulders
when my head falls
upon yours.

Sleep comes
after the tears run out
but morning
is like your smile;

through the length
of my tresses
assures my heart
that your love shines,
dresses my cheeks,
seeps into every crevice;

your love,

never fails.




You never bring me flowers
when green fades to brown,
crumbling under my feet,
remnants of a Summer love,

burnt orange
and sad as September



Love Letter #56: to Fireflies

It was one year to the day he left
in the coolness of March.
I waited
for a star to fall like it had that night.
I needed another sign from God
that he was somewhere warm;
somewhere sweeter

than the wildflowers we walked through
in that same field where I sat,

then, came something softer
than a constellation
but, as close as a whisper,
with wings.

My head in my hands,
it all came back;
the song, the lyric
of him;

the smile on the lips of his last words,
echoing like lost syllables in damp air,

but then, this flickering thing,
it multiplied, divided-
like stars,
exploding in the Heavens
and there I was
under a skyful of light

wondering how could I
have ever doubted


On Days Without Adjectives

I pinned my dreams
on an old clothesline
like mismatched socks

waiting for the right mate.

Night after night,
it was lonely, except for stars
leaning in to kiss my face
under a waning twilight
and a side-slung moon.

I stayed until dawn,
just to see blossoms
and speak to birds
about how you never listened
to my words,
because they didn’t rhyme

but my lips; my cheeks
are much pinker now
without you.