if you fled with all
your flavors
i’d miss each
taste,
and were you to vanish
i’d die in search
of your
trace.
shadow work
waiting for
a sun-like smile
to burn through
my teeth,
bracing for
a heart shaped cloud
to burst and
deplete.
i miss
cds..
and lyric sheets
with coffee
stains,
i miss when you
came like
fresh
rain,
oh, to spin
that mix
one more
time.
our family tree
has lost some leaves
from windstorms that
brought old
branches
down,
time to climb to
see how
high
the top can
reach–
to touch clear sky
in moments
of grief.
it was backwards
in time
we stripped the clock
down to its
gears–
to tinker with
a heart
too cracked to
beat again.
we met during a
thunderstorm,
you caught lightning
in your teeth,
my heart rumbled
deep beneath
desires purged
by cloud.
give me a
shot,
you may
be disappointed–
but never underappreciated
for the living
mystery
you are.
tell the sleeping
a dream
that may haunt
me awake–
and keep my wits
alert enough
to catch its
meaning,
these old pictures seem to
leap out of the
screen
to drag
us back into
our most wistful
scenes.
sheltered beneath
fractured
wing
rests
a fragile
quivering thing,
knows not own
strength–
nor that it’s
been seen
by every other
passing
being.
hands in the garden 
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