I'm aware of the voices tonight
and I can feel the monsters glare...

The chill of reality
has settled it's rime...

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

I love you like a star, dear
with auspicious eyes and falling lines...

Did you know,
that there was no moon tonight...

There are many layers
to the human soul...

My hands are two tiny ants
crawling over meadows...

So just hate me
for my slobbery tongue...

I am offended
by your metaphors...

As a child I spent countless hours
cradling thoughts...

I often wonder why
that homeless woman...

Sometimes I get so giddy on possibility
that I spin wildly with the world...