Sunday, October 25, 2009


What if I was beautiful to you?
What if my skin was soft and smooth,
no imperfections,
no wrong words?
What if my hands called to you
and you did nothing but answer,
nothing but answer
every day
of every year
until we died
on foreign soil
with the song of each other
in our mouths,
spilling out?

Sunday, October 4, 2009

When the Winds Turned

When did I know
there was a siren call
in my heart for you?
When the winds turned to ice
and I knew the world
couldn't be without you,
without us.

I felt a small piece of myself go,
as messenger,
to call you home to me
in this life
for as many days as we have left.

Come quickly, my love,
for time is wasting
in its loneliness
and I long to see your face again.