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...
Little scary tricks
wait upon closed doors...
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...