your presence freely given
without expectations of mood or ardor
is a simple oasis of still water
beside which I may sit and admire
Overhead, you count the stars
upon your fingertips
wearing each as a diamond
as we lie among rose hips.
Though summer scents waft strongly
your smile is but a linger
of that wistful, half-hoped feeling
roped onto your empty finger.
I may not be your lover.
I may not be a prince.
But this I have known long ago
and made my peace with since.
So, until you find happiness
and until I find mine
we’ll watch the stars together
and sigh away the time.
is nurtured quickly
while one, one-sided,
wears the patience
On a jutting rock, the goddess of the sea
watched the lad who rode often along the beach
between the fisherman’s wharf and a mountainous village.
He came each morning and left each night,
bringing and taking away her joy
to a place she could not reach.
She asked the river nymphs to follow far inland.
Behind hills wreathed in mist, they tell her of the maid he woos.
As she weeps, they rip pearls from her hair in payment,
revenging a scorn she once dealt them long ago.
If you are not mine
Then do not be his
Or I shall tear asunder
That chain which binds you.
He who speaks
In forked tongue
Foul and black —
If only I could have
Alas, in lieu
Of an impotent kiss
There is only:
Violence is a response to love thwarted
The dismissal of the value of your smile
The words laced in praise and comfort
Meant to soothe and indirectly ask
For those small affections that can turn a world:
Those strong smash their idols
Those weak, smash themselves
The castles built in the air with people to fill their rooms
And the daydreams of strolling hand in hand
Unfurling with mutual marvel, each other’s joys
Are wishes that only slowly die
When you deprive them of light
And the presence of that person they once basked in.
Do not mistake his smile for a promise of something more
When the words “No” have been uttered.
Sweet is the dreaming of your smile
And unconscious fluttering of your fingers
Which articulate with such finesse
Concepts like a warm stone
Balanced on the small of my back
Content, I watch you precariously
A bodiless whisper
Trying not to draw attention to itself