Do petals fall from your lips as you breathe?

A voice so lovely surely burgeons flow'rs

And lilting, softly sets my heart at ease

Such melody I'd listen to for hours.

Does moonlight dance inside your smiling eyes?

I know I've seen stars rested on your brow

Your laugh is brighter joy than dawn's sunrise;

You often seem too pretty to allow.

Are oceans spilling over in your heart?

For mine are nearly filled with passion's seas

They froth and churn and storm when we are part -

Then gently sway in love's fair summer breeze.

But though the beauty of the sea is true

It never was as beautiful as you.

Contrary to popular belief

I have never been the antonym of kindness,

Or warmth,

I love you: with the passion of a hundred dying stars.

When grief shatters your skull and leaves you empty

We will sing your broken song, and I will love you.

Dearest, I will bring heat when the world freezes over,

Claw and scratch to my dying breath, for I love you.

But pray:

Never love me, my rose,

I am not a home for you. May you never need me.

With love, Anger.

She caught my eye

sometime after six, on a Sunday.

Preparing dinner, at a straw basket kind of picnic, the sun melted into her skin.

Her hands occupied themselves with a single pomegranate:

wrist deep in a basin,

working away at its seeds,

her palms tore yellow flesh with gentle cruelty,

and i thought of it all night.

I saw you in a dream the other night,

The sun was blazing down your face like tears.

My fingertips were terrified and white

You felt from them my cold, unspoken fears.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m more alive

Imagining nostalgia for a myth:

A sleepless fantasy my heart contrives,

Sweet nothings I may ease my sadness with.

But as you held me, I knew I’d soon wake

Into a world of pain and loneliness.

You warmed my hands with yours as my soul ached

A silent promise built on empty bliss.

I wonder how you’d see me if you knew

The way I dream about myself and you.

I spent a summer afternoon outside

And for a minute napped on sunlit stone

A mourning dove up on a wire cried

I took a breath and heard cicadas drone

The past few months had been a trying time

But as a stray cat rubbed against my leg

My hands and feet went back to being mine

The songbirds settled on their sleeping eggs

A salty evening breeze blew from the west

I smiled at a busy string of ants

And even if I wasn’t at my best

I felt at peace for once among the plants

Sometimes you have to take a languid hour

To breathe in slow and smell a couple flowers

Your heavy arms brush beadboard on the wall

And I can hear you breathing in my ear

The rhythm of your heart makes me feel small

There’s nowhere I would rather be than here.

My room is dark except for fairy lights

Their paper glow enveloping your face

I tell you that you’re beautiful tonight

You laugh and tuck my hair back into place.

It’s such a shame I feel the most at home

The final hour you have time to stay

I don’t think I can ever write a poem

To tell you everything I have to say.

But for a golden evening sit with me

Let’s stay up late and giggle sleepily.

A silver possum

Shuffled down my roof last night,

Garbage in her hand.

I tried to take a photo

But she turned out all blurry.