Reflection Deception

What is it about nature's reflectionsthat draw us in and entrance us; just the optical illusion,or is there more to itbeneath the surface? I stand divided betweenwhat is and is not:truths entombed in deceptionsguarded by ghostly aspswith venomous tongues. One side, firm footing,the other, a gator-bait splash;demons and sirens playingshamelessly dirtierthe more questions I ask.  Round … Continue reading Reflection Deception

Out of Season

Determined to counter the moody cloudsothers have been attempting to cast onto me,I choose to seek out the sun, spring-infuse myself,dip my soul into the fresh-blooming green, breathe in the revitalizing April air,let the warming rays seep in through my pores,absorbed more in the whole of the reborn panorama thanfocused on the details imploring to … Continue reading Out of Season

Holding Photographs

nostalgia bittersweetjoy so genuine, effortlessradiating, echoingfrom fading photographs touched, held betweenringless fingers and the fumesof a heart on emptyfrom the momentso distantly removed time does not warpthose precious instancesforever suspendedfeelings will flutter onthousands of centuries bittersweet for the blissis eternally retrievablebut if the present is lessthen the tearsbreach suppressible falling is the gravityof sadness, all … Continue reading Holding Photographs

As Me

"I do not ever want youto stop being you. Please,"you said to me, as you always do, but this time,finally,you got through after such patiencein teaching mehow to love myselfand never oncebeing anythingbut kind and understandingas I repeatedly fell  on my face,tripping overhow unnecessarily x      l     m     c     e     p      o I insist on … Continue reading As Me

The Past In Your Palm

Natural beach tangleballsmessily woven with care;the tides tidy the past,clean up the yesteryears, least-cherished experiencesready for burial but not at sea,rejected from the oceanto keep the present clean. From the depths, the debrisfrom storms and dune erosionget collected and rolled like snowballsand returned to the shores, sand burial for these non-treasuresheavy in the chestthat successfully … Continue reading The Past In Your Palm

Sea Dance

Barefoot atop the deep waters,white dress and wild tresses flowing,sunken-ship cemetery of the past beneath,I twirl in this present moment.  The sea is mineas my dance floor,and I skim across to my pick of shores;I explore, I vacation, not searching, just jubilationof losingworries and fears,exaltation of the lightnessof the lifting of those stormy years,each moment an eternityto … Continue reading Sea Dance

Tides of Time

Walking alone, even his ghosthas abandoned you,single footprintsin sand and snowfrom a boy to a man, lost truths. Upon the phantasmal shores, you wander, fists raised;tears cannot erase what never was. Your own steps become weighted,the prints deep, breaking ground,and through the land, you begin to drown.  Sand turns to ice, entombing half-alive.Only one hand to reach for, but … Continue reading Tides of Time

The Journey

The journey, they say, is in itself the key;I've been downevery wrong roadmultiple timesit seemed, but to surface, I wish I could say unscathed, with the treasure of mein this mirror now heldsacred,  I'm hesitant to lay blameon my past,for who I amwas definitely shapedby every shadowed,obstacle-strewnpath,  and the keythat ended up being mefits perfectlyinto the lockaround your heart;  I … Continue reading The Journey

Window Shells

Out of body, I float through time, hover unaccompanied, no ghost as guide; nonetheless, through windows I peer,Dickens-paned, layered veneers.Yet in them, in those moments, the mise-en-scènes are still amiss–a faraway look, a laugh insincere, a single, silent unwitnessed tear–not necessarily sad, just adrift; have I never settled into my prints?My soul, a gypsy, but wishing to barter–tent for cabin, … Continue reading Window Shells