'Wish me good luck, '
as I watch you leave again.
A promise to write,
maybe to call, if there's time.
...
Swimming in your eyes.
Floating in your embrace.
Drowning in your kisses.
Falling into your soul.
...
We are the walking wounded.
our souls perforated,
confidence seeping out from within.
...
I am suspended,
swirling in a blue flame.
Surrounded by its searing heat.
Burning,
...
We wouldn’t have worked before.
We had too much to learn,
and too little to lose.
...
Six days creating memories.
Five nights of unbridled passion.
Four months of deep conversation.
Three different cities.
...
Like a tsunami
to a pebble in a pond …
or a California redwood
...
Words that I've spoken,
Choices that I've made,
Everyone I've been,
All those I've loved...
...
They’re an unlikely pair,
The fairy and the ogre.
She is delicate and fragile,
...
Blossom
A rare flower
in your hands,
the bud sealed tight.
It starts to open
under your care,
the petals loosening,
stretching to feel
the warmth of your sunshine.
It will bloom fully
for a brief moment,
exposing its inner workings,
then withdraw again,
protecting itself.
But do not set it aside.
For once freed by you,
this bloom
will never fully close.
And the secrets
of its beauty
belong to you alone,
for it is your words
your touch,
your spirit
that have released them.