“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.

“Coffee Stains”

I wish I knew how to look at you,

because then I may understand why your eyes never smile.

They find my face,

but can’t bring themselves to answer my questions.

It breaks me,

because I never learned your language.

So I can’t ever be one of you.

The eyes that you gave me,

aren’t lasting out here.

I’m losing you,

I fear.

Is this an addiction?

Am I suffering in silence or is this how you teach?

It seems you set me up for failure,

when I met you.

I hope you enjoy the taste.

“Life’s Pestilent Design”

Night tolled,

a quiet enrolled,

like a carpet beneath their feet.

Knights doing battle,

a malignant routine,

like a dance in the firelight.

Fright laughing blissfully,

a goddess in black silk,

like a cruel winter breath.

Plight looking down at the scene,

a girl in a green dress,

like a summer-seeking weed.

Light weeping over a fallen knight,

a boy with red in his eyes,

like a panicked deer.

And in the sweetest of whispers,

the whole world came,

undone.