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Peanut butter and honey

Smeared on triscuts

Evening stories

Bedtime songs

Front Porch star gazing…

These are your legacy




catch me…

I know I may fall

hard, not like an autumn leaf,

a rushing plummet

ripping away my breath

to scream a dying thought

breath too dependent

the first step

clenches fear to life

dousing courage


whisper to my memory


I’m already caught,

I fly.

unbearable love…

Spare yourself the bitter fruit,

I have sweet Mercy for you to sip from,

And Love to wash you clean.

Stand close,

Let the vapor overtake you

Infiltrate you

Molecule to soul. 


My heart interrogates my head,Why are you here

Why is he there

I tell her to be realistic

She scoffs at my logic…

You be realistic,

Be together. 

Blue looks grey

Green as dun.

She echoes


For the frequency



Of yours. 

Jagged edges

I know what it is to be broken…I know what it is to feel what the pieces look like and still be unable to find them… Everyone else looks whole… I’m coming to love the unpredictable edges that used to cut me… Having lost all interest in pleasing anyone but myself. 


is an all,

Or nothing


That’s what makes it so rewarding and so perilous. 

Poison and cure. 

My poem…

“I, I love you like a love song baby…”  Floats across the backseat to my drivers side ears…

“This moment,” I think. 

Out loud…”you’re my poetry.”

A wry smile to go perfectly with his too cool kids sunglasses … And there it goes…my poetry stealing my heart again…

His small 8 yo finger does the Blake Shelton finger point toward my oversized rear view mirror head, “I love you like a love song, Momma and I keep hitting repeat-peat-peat-peat-peat…”