Monday, February 20, 2012

and when he spoke...

And when he spoke,
he spoke
like a river gushing forth to the sea,
like he was in a hurry
to make up for Lost Time,
like there were too many words unspoken,
and they all vied to be chosen for me,

he said he loved clear skies
to a woman who adored rains clouding,
thunderclaps announcing,

yet lying to please him
came so easy,
it ringed out in a rhyme
like a song i always hummed along.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

His words were like a glassblower’s lips,
forming and deforming
my stories, its intricate mysteries,
our colluding bodies
and their struggling histories