pallid and curled into that old classic fetal memory
can't realize the ages'effect on my heart
oh to be young again...
and here i am watching the days go by
the sky yawns emphatically
and i start to realize the day is gone
stars sparkling in anticipation
silence demurely smiling

but the quiet is deep
and i can only imagine...

little more than ashes at your fingertips
whitewashed bits of candlewax caking your eyelashes
the world would not undersand
i think backto times of letterbox melodies
and the freshness of anewfound identity
and i reinvent myself
licking dry lips
pondering icicles
leaving footprints
and a veil in tatters
newborn and lonely already
baby's breath in tortents of protest
and tears containing seperate universesof sorrow...

i am friendly
in a consumer driven society
i rest in my own shallow space
watching ripples unfold
(here again we have the diversion of eyes)

i wrap my ribs in a corset
and i wrap my heart in ribs
fabric, flesh, bones...
internalized into a single heart beat
(here you see that she is on display and very composed)

A Smallish Understanding of the Sky
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
some days the sky seems all non-negotiable and far away...
or starry-eyed and classic, virtually undefined.
i can't help but notice the distance
between my ten outstretched fingers
and it's endless expanse.
pre-occupied blues and clouds
white and vague like bridal dreams on a sunday afternoon
casting their open-eyed shadows
on resting flowers.
or you might begin to wonder
whether they ever wish the world were a little different.
wars rage on
as babies laugh oblivious.
cups of tea make their way from saucers to daintily painted lips,
as refined as any smile could be.
liberty never beckoned so grace-fully
as the sun veiled her face
and clouds disintegrated
into so many perfect tears
on the face of time.