How many languages can one heart speak?

It’s not flighty and fickle.

That’s just devotion when you trap it.

My heart escaped in a red Nissan micra.

Make of that what you will.

It’s all Greek to me.

Beauty from questionable choices
In this ugly, lovely town.

To see yourself reflected
In the eye of the beholden.

A delighted witness
This is the dream.

If I can’t escape.

Then I’m the trap.

The door became a mirror.

But I don’t see me.

Compromise is a pumice stone.

Am I smoothed or eroded?

I soothed when I should have exploded.

I can’t make this good.

But I can make it might.

You remind me of a question mark.

A full stop
with a hook.

A door
you close
but do not lock.

You.
All hook,
no stop.

What door?

I will not abandon you

to being strong.

I will stay with you.

I will give up with you.

I will risk not remembering this

Hold desire at an angle.

Four at your feet.

Work up.

From you, a loan.

Two on the nose?

A touch.

To hear that one letter difference.

I couldn’t keep count if you paid me.

Loving you is like eating soup with a fork.

Ineffectual.

Time consuming.

I look pretty stupid.

If you gave me a spoon

I could not take it.

Write poems about how much you love me.

Carve words in the way I carve you.

Wade in the feeling of me,

Dig in the dirt of me.

Hold me to the light,

Find me wanting.

Claw at me.

Cherish me.

Spill for me.

Spin for me.

Not requested. Just something you do.

A shorthand for hope.

I cannot do this, yet.

I do not know, yet.

I have not met myself without you, yet.

I could, yet…..

It’s okay.

I was with you,

I felt the why.

I’ll be here when you let go.

I dreamed and the whole world shifted.
I didn’t dream of you.

I dreamed and the whole world shifted.
Maybe I dreamed of you.

I dreamed and the whole world shifted.
That dream won’t bring me you.

A freedom by any other name might taste like a mars bar.

Might smell like cut grass.

Might sound like waves crashing.

Might feel like flying.

A freedom by any other name might taste like chalk.

Might smell like drains.

Might sound like nails on a blackboard.

Might feel like too much.

Is freedom a fantasy or a feeling?

Sometimes you stall before you start.

I will always bring you mars bars

I kissed you at a bus stop.

It might have been raining,

I haven’t decided.

It’s summer

but my arms slip inside your coat.

Your bus is coming

Don’t go.

Did we kiss at a bus stop?

I hope so