-
As children often do,
I too, begged and pleaded...
-
She was a midnight catastrophe;
her need to spin upon the pond...
-
Your head on my shoulder
Right where you belong...
-
This poem is fictional -
I did not slice through my heart...
-
Days until today,
we shared, once...
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I gazed outside a fog, flamed window.
There were things within a dark sky...
-
-
Persecuted,
Prosecuted and...
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We gather together at a little virtual coffee shop...
After we share life's views...
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I bask in the warmth
Of heavens glow...
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My eyes sweat with exhaustion
I'm battered and badly bruised...
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She says she
doesn't remember...
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I hear it rains diamonds
on Jupiter, so paint my vagabond soul...