(2014)
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high
liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time
simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation
dopplergangers in case you both explode, who knows it could happen, true love too qui… like a limerick, obvious stupid si… like things aren’t. also, angular
i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing
first fruits hardly a handful, the garden
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
so, come on then, brilliant one, see, i’ve been waiting for you with eyes
let’s put all the stupid things in a pile and call them “love” or “worry” or
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...