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Love Letter #44: Severed Merger

You left my heart
on the boardroom floor
Friday, June 23rd at 12:40

just after your lunch settled,

you skillfully drafted
this unsettling letter.

I feel like a broken contract,
and oh, my spirit, shattered,
falling, like the expectations
I built like blocks in your image.

I made you tall, but the idol
came crashing down

and I wondered if you ever noticed

my eyes are the color of yours;
my timid smile, this face,
so easily erased from your mind
as if I never existed,

Oh, but I do

and these broken pieces
can be put back together
by a carpenter

and a love that never fails.

~

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Against This Present Darkness

Eyes rise and fall
with simple shading of clouds
upon a face;
a bowed head
seeking shelter
from raging tempests;

from love’s ache.

Night comes quietly
like snowflakes in winter;
like the whisper of psalms
​ beyond candlelit curtains.

I keep your words with me
soft syllables of grace,
sweet shelter

in the midst of my storm.

~

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Cleansed

I used to wait for rain
stand, palms up, pleading
for earth to fall away

so I could bloom;

sat under that weeping willow
many a Sunday, sleeping
under the swish of limbs,
tremble of railroads
echoing at my back-
ears attuned
only to cardinal’s song
to fade the noise
of Monday coming,

It took years of suffering
to open my wings,
to close the umbrella
to feel the son;

to feel the sun.

~

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Love Letter #43: Finding You

I happened upon your syllables,
between pages of love poetry,
drew hearts around the letters
of your name, following mine
and filled myself

with a new perspective.

I watched a flirtatious moon
and its surrounding stars
dance a delicate finale,
blue as midnight,

like the dreams formulating
in my head

and as the sun rose,
like a swirling of skirts,
all of the faded wildflowers
I walked past before,
bloomed at my feet,

pink as these blushed cheeks
that rose and fell
for you.

~

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Arranging Flowers

He didn’t carve initials
in that oak tree we lay beneath,
but, we tasted syllables.
rolling off the tongue,
from his lips to mine
and back again,
quenching our thirst
with the juice of poetry
dripping down pink curves;
fingers finding metaphor
within tangled limbs-
searching for alliteration
in a handful of wildflowers;
breaths meeting
in the middle
of love’s sentence

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Morning Glory

 

Oh, light, posing promise,

                        like posies,

        picked apart, strewn;

             hidden,

        like morning glory,

 

                                blooming

                below bedroom windows.

 

Oh, jealous moon

     tempting twilight,

        with its scattered stars

 

         swirling,

 

  like the thoughts

         you left me with.

~

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Love Letter #42: Blue

Gentle soul,
my baby boy; quiet,
quirky, standoffish,
except when I sing.
When you smile,
the skies open
and I am flooded
with a Mother’s love
for her gentle lamb.

Those brown eyes,
they bring me to tears;
sweet freckled face,
sometimes serious,
always loving, caring;
innocence envelops you,
my angel, artist, thinker
in a baseball cap;
our special gift.

You hit the ground running,
bouncing, Bubba,
silly, bundle of joy.
The sound of your voice
leaves chests beating soft,
like your thoughts,
beaming with imagination,
sweet, like your heart.

~