Bury me with chocolates,
The kind I love so well.
Send dark and bitter candy wreaths
With leaves of caramel.
...
Memories are only
Tattoos on the brain,
Pain-etched, day by day,
Brush-stroked in joy.
...
Dreams often break
on their way across the night
with a terrible shredding sound as
quiet tears brand the place
...
There is something so comforting in the sound
of a bassoon singing strongly and deeply,
filling all the dark corners of a concert hall.
...
Go slowly.
Nibble it around the edges and sigh.
Lick the sugar off the top
then close your eyes, remembering
...
Poem Soup
Take one large scoop of words,
Blend in rhythm
...
They fling their flowers quickly out to sea.
Each petal is a prayer upon a wave,
Pressing against the tide deliberately.
They dare to watch, recalling all they gave
...
Tattoos
It is memories that tattoo tender skin,
pain that holds and pierces, ink etching
...
It is night and houses hold
a hallowed hour of simple sweetness,
subtle glow at the core,
comfort framed within each window.
...