She wears her heart braided 'round her wrist;
a bohemian scent...
Paralleled
I found you...
The old mare would lollop back to the gate
As if to say to me I cannot wait...
Silent voices echo
in the corridors...
Tucked away safely
within a closet...
In the garden of my dreams
Lilacs run free for miles...
America is in our cereal bowls
and on our T.V.s...
tears tore me
dripping dropping...
What I turn myself into for others is unhealthy:
I’d give my last drop of blood for a pinprick...
Mossy forest,
have you ever dreamt of me...
I am in awe of the translation of your eyes
from forgotten languages of dreams...
One needs to reflect
into the others to get...