The sun rises in the morningLifting the cover of what the moonDidn’t get at night,To everything that’s left. We exist,But not as we did before.Love…
Poet & Storyteller
Love is not a circus.Still, I watched her perform.I watched her spin around in circlesAnd pretend to fall.I watched her paint her face redAnd smear…
I watch,And I pull different piecesOf her out the bowl.Somewhat tangled and a bit messy.I twist her all up even more,And put her in my…
The moon swallows the sun,And for a second,Everything becomes that much darker.Nothing moves. Silence looks around,Confused, looking for a sound. Her lips touch mine,And the…
I smell the wild on you.How the snow is caked in your fur.When the night falls, what doesIt offer besides survival.And the means to be…
My bones ache from all the cleaning I’ve done. I’ve cleaned up all the dust and finally hit the floorboards that I always tell myself…
You’re the glassI pour my whiskey intothe perfect weight.Heavy, broken in. Your neckrests comfortablyagainst my fingers. Your cold body,lost in my warmth,your lips become sticky,…
Your voice forms the bricksof a well-built home. It holds in warmth on a hot day,stores heat on the cold ones.Your voice is a shelterone…
of water from a glasssip by sip,a glass full of time. Second by second,it trickles between salt and brine,traveling through memory. Although the most primalof…
The pen scrapes on the paper.I outline the way you make me feela single line, followed by another.Soon, they connect in a shaded silhouette. This…