Only if ashes lived
to tell the story.
Like a martyr in a war
or Jack in Titanic…

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his love would be deeper
than color of her henna.

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Our hands would fit better together.

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in its shell. Away from the sparks of the stars. It’s tiring, every night. Pleasing someone else with its glow. Hiding those scars that are dull at best.
And not even getting paid.

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to shine bright no matter how cloudy the day gets. There is always a leaf somewhere expecting it’s warmth.

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Innocence can be trusted. I have seen various faces of it. I have seen it struggle with happiness, jealousy, emptiness, and fear.
It hides something more profound, like a seed waiting to be sown.
And then it blooms into its true self.
Something you may never expect.

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Can an evening get more delicate?
With blueberry evening and a Haze of saffron coloring the glass,
Hours took flight like seconds.
Only thing to share was your warmth,
Only thing to remember were your lips.
With fingers locked,
We shared our time with words and our space with breaths.
When all the words were spoken,
Beautiful silence wrapped around our souls like snow-capped mountains.
Seeing your car, I asked,
“How long can we stare at it?” And you said
“Forever”.

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our kids running outside, gathering strings of sunshine in there pockets. Jaime is 4 years old and Marianne is 6. One chasing the other like bees have found there wings again. My eyes do look for your presence, maybe they’ll see your smile in a shadow somewhere. Relishing in the sun and our kids. Nothing would have been the same without you.

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When sun chases the moon knowing they’ll never meet

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the sun is at the edge of the ocean, shimmering with the waves. I’ll be waiting to hold your hand again to know that you have still kept it warm for me. Then all I would want is your embrace with your heart in sync with mine and I will know, we are together…forever.

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