At night
I dream her.
I dream her to life.
Sundress flowing white;
her eyes bright,
yellow flower in her parted hair.
A dreamer,
I dream her.
I dream her to life
Sunrise
Beating heart
trembling fingers
voices argue in his head;
he shivers quietly.
Dancing thoughts,
self-indulgence.
No escape
until sunrise.
Bleed
Bleeding red
in between lines of blue;
the words I never spoke,
always written.
Sitting silent
spilling
intimate thoughts in cursive.
Keep my secrets close,
never share a word,
tell a soul; let me bleed.
Here with you.
Here in couplets and verses.
Seasons
Sway by the shore,
along the shoreline.
Watch the stars with me.
Weather the storm
in the blinded winter night.
Shiver close to me.
Grow among the
new, spring-red roses.
Bloom next to me.
Change your colors
in the crisp early evening.
Fall next to me.
Watercolor
Soul
Holes in her leggings
tangled blonde hair
color-worn finger nails
pale-white skin.
A torn body,
beautiful soul.
Tide
Call me your full moon.
Pull me close. I am your gravity.
Let’s crash along the shoreline
dip and dance to the rhythmic tides,
sparkle in the moonlight,
reflect in puddle-filled faded footprints,
and tangle amongst the seaweed.
We’re the water
the salt
the reflection
the tide.
Blue-Grey Iris
If she only knew how beautiful she looks;
how her grey-blue eyes turn different shades
of blue as tears drip down her face.
As much as I want to help,
I can’t comfort her;
I’m selfish. I can’t stand to see
her eyes turn back into a normal shade of gray.
I need her to cry, so I can
write words about her from a distance;
personify her beauty at her darkest moment.
I love to watch her eyes
speak of emotion through color.
Damn, I love her when she cries.
Sway
The way her off-white dress bottom dances
in a windstorm freezes my pass-by.
Both wind and her dress agree to hold hands.
They intertwine at different speeds,
exchange dips on the dance floor,
toss, turn, swirl around to the rhythm,
up until the wind passes on through;
the storm passes, sun peeks out, the next song resumes
her dress dances no more. My day goes back to ordinary.
Creases
midst her lips,
branched around her eyes.
Her body an hourglass of beach-like sand
washed along ocean end;
smoothed to the surface by a midnight high tide;
reflected waters’ perfection
in morning sunrise.
Caged
Worn on sleeves,
exposed to hurt,
told to never give away.
Through pain
it beats;
through love,
it beats.
Torn,
broken,
ripped.
It never misses rhythm,
sheds a tear,
or finds a reason
to beat no more
She Goes
She dresses in see-through.
She’s opaque and clarity, fiction and reality;
she’s perfection.
She would never look my way.
She knows my flaws; I know she knows.
I can’t compliment her the way she deserves it.
I best express my spoken words
in creative, nonsensical poetry.
Before she walks away,
maybe I’ll keep my
ten seconds of doubt
I’ll approach her,
tell her she’s beautiful,
grab her by the hand,
put my finger on her lips
before she can respond.
All before she goes,
I go, and my illusory mind
wanders off, again.
White Lace
Draped in white lace, she sits
encircled in smoke. Ash put beside
her, burn marks on her shoulder; she
enjoys the pain, buzz.
Her dress lays lightly over her shoulder
shielding, exposing her. Surrounded
by grey-black smoke, wrist on her knee,
a dangling hand; her mind drifts away
inhaling, exhaling
inhaling, exhaling
inhaling, exhaling
the world encircled around her
Fragments
Memories lay
scattered on the table,
like a puzzle,
broken in hundreds;
pushed aside,
spilt across the floor
forgotten and lost
broken in pieces
of fragmented thought
Condensation
A breath of warm air,
creates a canvas of condensation.
A finger, her brush, draws blindly.
Her kryptonite is the sun
to rise and evaporate her
art away.
She will stay drawing,
beyond the morning dew,
creating temporary fantasies
on a canvas of condensation
vinnylanni 