So there’s this poet in my garden.
He sits right by the willow tree.
Listening to the words I say,
As he morphs them into beauty.
...
You were so waiting for me to jump into the deep end
Where the splash would engulf and wash away
Everything
I have ever dreamed
...
Cinderella,
with her slippers of glass,
clicks her heels three times
...
They say that she is a beautiful dancer.
Her limbs follow the music.
Her heart pulses to the beat.
Satin-wrapped toes click
...
Saline eyes drift along the shore
Somehow asking for a muse once more
They fall upon
A barren rock
...
The summer’s gone.
We wasted away the days
lying by fires and
burying our toes in the sand.
...
I see now, that I loved you.
“only in hindsight, ” as they say.
Because I thought, when I loved you,
“no, it cannot be, ”
...
Africa- the warm sand between my toes
and standing in front of me-
an elephant.
pink and gold and it shines in the sun,
...
If we planted love,
instead of flowers,
winter would be heartbreak.
...
He opens his hands,
Lets the moths fly erratically
About in my stomach.
They tremble unconsciously,
...