May my heart
be the softest place you fall,
may this love
be the wildest place you run.
Butterflies Rising
May my heart
be the softest place you fall,
may this love
be the wildest place you run.
Butterflies Rising
“…That he, an echo
and you, a sound-
I loved you more
than love allowed.”
“More Than Love”, Lullabies (p.55).
I find you in the poetry of lovers.
I find you in the fierce auburn of the rising sun
demanding to be felt before it is seen.
I find traces of you within the strands of my hair.
But above all, I find you
in me.
In the glimmer of my eyes
when they shine at the sound of your name.
In the essence of the blooming spring.
In the empty space
between my fingertips.
Maybe the wolf is in love with the moon, and each month it cries
for a love it will never reach.
When the layers subside
and the fortune is empty,
the pigment of our days
will echo pure
and I will be nowhere
if not with you.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,
they’re within each other all along.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
Lady Lazarus
I wear his name on my tongue
with pride,
and his scent on my skin
with arrogance
As if you were
on fire
from within,
the moon lives
in the lining
of your skin.
I am made
of the poetry
my fingertips
bleed.