Write a poem about the ocean.

He told me I gave 99% to those around me, 
but in that remaining 1% I reserved for those worthy, 
the depth of my humanity could be found. 
When he left I retreated to those black waters, 
lights only serving as traps 'cause a girl's gotta eat. 
He eventually found his way to the sun, 
swimming through strata as fast as he could. 
He said he loved scuba diving, but 
he loved the view not the danger.

~

A voice like honey, 
a mere shadow of 
my siren call. 
I'll look at you
with stars in my eyes. 

I'm a trap, a promise,
a threat, a bluff. 
You'll follow my lure
through dark blue nights
across dive bars and
cheap guitars and 
conversations about the past. 

When you wake up
you'll drown in an ocean
of oxytocin and endorphins. 
Let it roll through you
in tides because babe...

I'll have you high 
from the pressure found 
in my depths. 
And my lows will reveal 
unknown wonders and 
horrors alike. 

I hope to see you on the road.

Time sought for release, but
Context prevailed in battle. 

For her, magic flowed through 
her fingertips - it's amazing 
what can be accomplished 
when one is endlessly inspired.

Her heart haunted by a vision 
of what could be in another lifetime, 
she acknowledged the impossible. 
You become intimate with dreams 
when you chase them for too long. 

Aligned with Time, she hoped 
one day her her wounds may heal. 
He found her achilles, snapped it
with soothing words, misleading caresses.
Limping, she carried on, searched for
the stars and the moon, prayed for
solace in lonely nights, wished for 
another opportunity to be witnessed 
just once more in this life.

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.