Poetry

Constant

We walked side by side between planets,

watched their oceans swell and fall

into stardust, theorizing how Saturn’s rings

may be its core

after its writhing energy tore out

to form its own globe.

 

The stars can be seen during day on Mercury,

but I can see them at any time I wish

in your eyes.

Our markers held well over the year,

the beats sounded and shook me giddy.

 

In the grain of that bench under the maples,

our echoes will reside forever.

 

Poetry

Kivuli

What are shadows made of

when they look at you,

flickering in candlelight

or standing bold against

the rays of the sun?

Our silent companions

we forget are there.

Those who experience every part

of us, even the parts

we think no one can see.

Our constant. Our comrade.

Present, without judgement,

without thought.

 

We think.

Poetry

Our sweet fortress

We build up walls

to hide our little cocoon

of love,

with brightly woven  threads

woven into a snug blanket

and a casing of polished ebony.

The heat of the sun warms us

as time passes,

grasses grow up around us

and wildflowers bloom year after year.

Our hands are constantly entwined,

and will be

until they are hands no more.