after the earth
shook
you rushed a
window
to observe what
remained
of outer
realm
and all its
chaos
reduced to
a hum-
consoled by
change.
abstract
on breathless
night–
we set flame to our
final page
and buried a heavy
chapter..
like relic not worth
exhuming in
this life,
then sought out
a fresh
star
to guide us with hope
to daylight.
building fires with
my hands,
atop the soil that
cakes my
nails,
upon land that
returns my
love
in
abundance.
kisses
in waves,
a riptide
like blades,
tossed then dragged
to the bottom
where unseen and
unsafe.
were leaves to sense
their fate
come season’s
shift..
would they cling
tighter
to
branch
of a tiring tree,
or just fall like they’d
been set
free?
i shade beneath
your petal..
cuts the sun
in half,
i weep like
dew..
coats garden of a
parched
past.
they said
i’d dreamt you
better than i knew
myself,
though i’ve held you
real enough
to sense your
absence
from my book
shelf.
smoke sick cars
squeal..
towards divergent
deadlines,
and i pray each finds
a one that
quells
its fear of being
left behind.
you wrapped me like
an old worn scarf
around your
throat
and
sighed-
as if in repose,
at home..
seduced by roaring
flame,
though you still
shivered..
though the cold
brought its
bitter.
i’ll take autumn’s hand
should she ask me
to dance,
in the splendor of
her vibrancy–
i’d rise to such
a chance.
hands in the garden 
You must be logged in to post a comment.