the morning light drinks from your
eyes – a continuous wellspring of...

in the city of a thousand suns;
you swell the most at the seams...

after the monsoons
puddle the red earth into clay...

suddenly light,
and i think of your smile...

RED
carmine sky swallows the canary sun...

these nights, the air is in a drunken stupor,
borrowing spirit from our wine, daring...

i was not taught to be gentle;
the whirling winds outside...

i remember that day vividly;
he looked at the price tag of...

i sing of you with a hushed breath,
careful to not let the words to your...

the sea spells y/our name in
the gentle whirlpools...

predator by name; you knew exactly where to
lurk. methodological; brazen in approach...

poetry resides at the tips of your fingers, you...
i know this intimately, because i saw the sun rise...