You Falling Madly in Love
experience a moment of bliss
the blessings of the gods
the main difference between
Cupid’s choreography
and to lose one’s head
deserves your total devotion
For all of us, art is
the gratitude we feel.
As if by design
you have secured more than beauty
often the difference between
mysteries of the human heart
and an impulsive desire
is a matter of perspective
Conjure up a world, gift wrapped
with a few surprises of your own.
Rejoice
It takes a brave woman to release one’s heart.
The greatness you celebrate in pretty things:
handle with care.
It is our pursuit of happiness
that deserves close examination.
More should have said, love yourself.
Not all your belongings belong to you.
The woman sitting next to Cinderella
is never satisfied. What makes you
loveable will take you by surprise.
Many things are possible;
each asking for your attention in their own way.
Luck is as feminine as a premonition.
Don’t strive to be merely beautiful
when you are destined to be regal,
captivating, an amazing soul.
The harmonious gesture of the morning
befriends you. Think
of what will happen for a woman
who holds her courage
in the palm of her heart.
Whenever I Dream of You
The stars shine
in the purple melted sky
as I lean over a well
blowing ripples
into the still water, pushing
the oceans to their edges.
Ships slip out to sea
with regrets sewn into their sails.
Wishes too, maybe,
There’s just too many rules
here among the waves,
but the fish don’t mind
the time or the way
your fingers snap impatiently.
Hate whom you need to hate.
Love the rest like the fragile bones
inside a sand dollar.
Spin your teeth
to say pleasing things
if you must.
I see your truth
like a green worm hidden
on a tomato plant
when it trembles
and the smell of black earth
replaces the air in your lungs.
It’s the last note
played on the piano
in the last house
you lived in the last time
you were loved. Do you
remember that far back?
A hand like a blanket fort
closes around yours.
Even with the mask on, you know
the hand will always be mine.
The carousel spins behind us.
Bright horses invite us to ride
but, although the music
is impossible,
we choose to dance instead.
The smallest key fits silently
into the lock with a click
hushed by the sunlight
snaking through the places
not neatly tied shut.
I move through the murky,
swamp-filled desires
that linger here,
drenching the hem of my white dress.
But I know the warmth is all I need.
I tap my foot
like a voodoo curse
against the church bells, chiming
from the place that is real.
and I awake
in our bed
blinking at you
stretched out next to me.
I whisper into your sleeping ear,
I miss the carousel.
Live True To You 