Fingertips

And when words fail me, 
I’ll weave my heart into bamboo. 
My love, a thumbprint, 
left in the grips of tiny hands, 
in smiles shared across 
rooms across languages 
across cultures across 
the universal magic of 
a Moon in her full glory. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I’ll love you
the only way I know how. 
Gentle as a caress, 
loyal as a callous,
I’ll love you
through the tips of my fingers. 

I need some space.

Thoughts like scattered clouds,
waiting for gentle guidance, 
seeking direction.

Eternal Institutions

Old stories, old bones
illuminating our need
for signs, paths, comfort.