Monday, April 25, 2011


she had forgotten

about music

about sound flooding her veins

about art

and the overwhelm

about paint on canvas and naked arms

about poetry

and how could she have forgotten about poetry?

she was quietly waiting

for the invitation

back to herself

Monday, April 18, 2011


she she closes her eyes the smell of flowers pink and pastel and they should be for easter she she closes her eyes and that giggle fills her ears and it should never stop she crosses her fingers she waters the plants and she breathes in quick when she comes she dances on eggshells she opens the door slow she covers it up so you'll never know she closes her eyes and the show starts up again the circus lives in her town she arches her back and catches the trapeze and the fall overwhelms her again she lands at your ocean she swims in too deep and you'll never see her again