Blog

You would think that your silence Would smother my desire, But your hiss is a breath That ignites it again — And the thought of Your kiss is Gasoline. You slowly slither through the garden, Admiring your estate while leaving Embers and dust on everything You touch, remembering only What’s left in the good part Of your memory. The only apples You offer are Poisonous. When you’ve burned down Eden And all that’s left is the two Of us, you’ll still be a snake And I’ll still be na

Sometimes It’s kinder To decline Invitations — Than to arrive Unhappy or hurried or resentful. Sometimes We must choose To showcase ourselves Even when The expectation is To shine the light on others first. Sometimes We must wrap our own bodies In the quilt we sewed ourselves Before we blanket Others in compassion. Sometimes We must gracefully Walk away in the cold Instead of running Toward someone else — Even if their fire burns the warmest. Sometimes We don’t Have

We’re cozied up inside, Stoking a fire And slurping hot soup and hot chocolate To counteract the frozen water That is falling from the sky outside.   But the quaaludes make The precipitation more sensual.   We decide to sway outside In our own personal snow globe, Our hands and tongues reaching out To taste the white powder As it falls from the sky.   The cold flurry of flakes evolves Into a warm bubble bath, The iridescent orbs bursting on our skin.   If only we could stay i