Tongue-tied

Talking has become 

too complicated 

for me, 

conversational situations run 

through my head;

I fill with

"What-if-I-said-this?" until 

I am left with 

only a cacophony of silence, 

and I say 

nothing at all. 

Even now I 

am stumbling across 

these words, 

trying to sort out 

thoughts and imagery and 

apologies. 

I hope you don't mind 

that I'm not quite all there 

right now,

I don't mean 

to be ignoring or 

passing you off
with silence and monosyllabic
answers,

but lately I've been staying quiet 

because my mind 

is so loud 

that my language has become 

undone. 

Stars

my darling, 

when 

I asked for a star, 

you sent me a galaxy 

to light up 

dark nights, 

and even when covered with 

dark clouds 

I can still 

see faint glows; 

all I want 

to do

when you get lost

is to send you 

the stars, 

even if not to guide you 

but to light your path 

on the way home.

Angles

I've always felt

that my body 

comprised of 

angles jutting

out, 

pointed shoulder blades,

cutting hips and 

peaked collar bones; 

a fitting exterior 

for someone who would 

otherwise be 

too soft. 

But when I feel 

how I fit 

under your 

casually draped arm, 

how your hands settle 

on the base of my 

spine, 

your fingers tracing lines 

down my thigh;

you melt me 

back into 

soft arching curves.

 

Delayed Spring

Like a 

delayed spring, 

you plant flowers 

in the once 

snow covered banks 

of my heart, 

with fingers churning dirt and 

lips sowing seeds and 

loving words nurturing seedlings 

in warmth; 

patiently, you gaze

as I unfurl 

and reveal my petals 

to you, and 

you alone.