Winter does not fit me well
with it's white skirt of frigid drapery...

Your words have spun like cobwebs
in the dusky niche of my heart...

He's gone...

You said, "you break my heart when you write...
Mine cracked a little, mutating from its matter of...

I don't suppose
the white hums of summer...

You just look at me
and I am whelmed in a pool...

Cosmo says
the best way to reclaim your dew...

I slurp the days of lemonade
with parched lips...

Damn the roses
for their quiet despair...

I could lose myself
to the white noises of summer...

Somewhere between soul and thought
there's a love poem in me...

There's a gust inside,
it chills me...