lipstick

sip tea from dainty china cups
imprinting lavish coloured stains around the rim
the footprint of painted lips
a kiss thankful for the sweet taste
remain crystallized for the next sipper

attention please

add spice to substantiate mediocrity
garnering attention by
waving my hands around
and sitting on your lap
making a spectacle of myself
insinuating that you are not
paying me undivided heed

wanting to be your addiction

so that you might
find
not an annoying creature
to dissuade you from your
mindless games
but rather
a reachable unreachable
the kind that makes your heart
race faster faster faster

needing me like crimson water

once perhaps, but no longer
now
really
I just need you
to immerse yourself in me
to lay the stones in front of my feet
so that I might know where to step

blindfolding myself

tied delicately
wrapped like tinted goggles
woven into my hair
and I cling to you dramatically

humming satisfaction

without your help
I’d just sit here blind
stay still
and die without even knowing it

I looked at you

When I looked at you

I saw baby flames torrenting
down your hardened cheeks,
where once there were tears.
I guess you shaped your armor well.

We both knew you needed it.

Has it changed you?
Do your feet still shuffle dusty across the path?

I’ll still be here waiting for you,
whatever you decide.

My eyes longing to be seen by yours.
My skin shaped for your hug.
My fingers impatient to intertwine-
to weave in all of you.

Don’t leave me waiting too long.

We the movement makers

For us
Every inhibition
leaves us deafened;
Prisoners of trepidation.

For us
Every movement
traces blood;
Fused to the soul.

Untangle this havoc.
Allow movement
to soothe heartache and
reveal resilience,
invincible.

Where experience might coalesce
with the physical body.

For us,
the movement makers.

Dancers go

Nerves foiling in her belly.
She warms her muscles
on the dark cement.
Listening to a foreign tune of
casted movement she will never learn.

A hushed moment-
a pause, a breath. And then
Hands clapping, the relief of five
as they move away from the light.
And the curtain closes.

The time ticked away,
she is given her go.
24 minutes to be truthful
She is herself, unhindered.
Impossible to hide,
for this one fleeting moment.

The muted curtain revealing,
as familiar music echos in her head.
The arrival of lights.

Whether she is ready or not,
she makes poetry with her body.

She dances.

The falsity of nests

Are you alone my dear, my dear?

Are you facing your fears? I see you over there
Perched painfully against
the edge of your willowing nest.

Your toes pinching its pillowy remnants
in a desperate attempt to
feign fragility.

That will not save you,
Silly child.

Why not just
lay your eyes down,
and notice.

See that below lies
A flower bed-
all safety and comfort.
Do you not like how they smell now?

Once you let go
and fall
gently, into their glorious petals.

You will inhale
and find that their once fearful odor
caresses the skin of your delicate nose.
Brings a humming to the pores
now singing in unison.

Can’t you see, my dear?
The danger is not in your imminent fall
but rather
in your crumbling nest.

The love I long to give

All the love
I might have given you.
I wish
I long
Should that I could give it to you now.

Unfair, so unfavourable this circumstance.
Yet unfair is not important.
I don’t care.
I only care that the love which I can no longer give you
Which you deserve, and should have
So hopeless is my desperation
I give to another.

Not because what I feel for you has lessened
It only grows stronger
The only way I can honour
What we had.

What you were to me
No one and nothing can replace
You are my inspiration
For the air I choose to breathe
Into my aching lungs
Sorrowing from missing you.

The love that I give without remorse
I give because I think of you
All that you should have had and more.

For what you gave me
I did not realize until now
Was more than I ever could have hoped for.

Our hurried descent

I think that we are absolute.

Falling together, we are chilled and fused together, in this-

the furious confusion.

We descend in haste, fingertips grasping and frantic.

Our plight is assured, decided. Though not by us.

We know not where we will land-

only that we will land together.

In spite of their desires.

Despite the howling, the wild hindrances,

the hurried esteem, the interference of circumstance.

Cradle me from my fear and insecurities, my love.

So that I might stare them down,

knock them off their presumptuous pedestals.

For here on this rapid hailstorm, there is only room for you and me.

With tears frozen solid against our burning cheeks.

I like it a lot better this way.

Don’t you?