“Heartlines”

Red whispers,

clocks tied together with old arteries.

He wasn’t using them anymore.

Tick,

goes the clip,

caught under his silver tongue.

They were familiar with his work.

Tock,

a mother’s love,

tested with bullets and rage.

They never made it.

Tick,

a way to measure loyalty

to the bush outside his window,

and to the olive tree,

with its branches,

stroking the back of her neck.

“A Different Kind of Light”

His heart aches,

she’s losing her feathers.

A peacock,

blue,

and green.

Her wing is broken.

The sun tries to help,

the moon gets in the way.

They can’t be together.

She’s missing her crutches,

made of someone else’s collarbone.

There’s a ring on his finger.

He won’t sleep tonight,

all those blinding lights,

dancing,

in his head.

“Here I Go Again”

I’ve been staring at you for so long,

you seem to have lost your legs.

I want you to walk away,

because I’m me and you’re you.

You know yourself too well to end up with someone like me,

who knows nothing.

I don’t know myself.

Or maybe I do.

Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to speak,

when you enter a room.

I torture myself,

it’s just something I do.

Sorry,

I’ve disappointed you.