These days are innocuous
Shackled to incompetence
Like so many shadows
Trailing corporeal selves
They waste away to dirt
Sinking deep into the soil
As fragile as glass
Melting in the summer sun
And I can’t remember June
Those everlasting nights
That bled into morning
Those transcendental days
That disappeared in time
You standing next to me
As dangerous as breathing
In the absence of air
Through these days of fear
When nothing is constant
Save this emptiness
That exhales silence
As surely as my ghost
When it breathes you in.


Your hair smells like vanilla
All perfect innocence
And transcendental bliss
A mix of lavender cloves
Suffused with sandalwood
As I inhale, a heady rush
Completely washing over me
Taking over every sensory
Perception that I have ever known
So unlike anything else
Save for the ecstasy of life
That smells exactly like vanilla
Like your hair after the rain
That drives me insane
Like the snow while it falls
All light and airy
As I lean to drink it in
This perfect innocence
This complementary essence
All tied up and twisted in you
From that first moment in time
When we were all fresh and new
When everything was a miracle
When that scent was all I knew
That made me think of you
And it still does
Just like vanilla.

Patchwork Heart


Stitch by stitch
Sewn into the fabric of time
So subtle it is unseen
But it means the wide world
The beating of this heart
Delicately tender
Wonderfully delicate
Artfully pieced together
In a fearful design
Just one tear might unravel
This complicated love
Tied as it is to a pain
That renders me speechless
A slight shuddering sigh
This historical context
Wrapped in brand new cloth
Cut small and cautiously frayed
As fragile as this heartbreak
This nostalgia so hypnotic
It blinds by design
The flashing of needles
Bright against a faded like
That was masquerading as love
These stitches healing clean
But leaving jagged scars
As reminders.