poetry, mostly for my own reference. all written at completely different times/stages in my life, all somewhat different. all somewhat crap.

The cat-like eyes so bold, and fleeting
glances make me smile
Rain-kissed socks and torn pages, notes too high to
sing so sing sing sing until you grin.
You said that in Just Seven Days you could make me
a man; I don't want to be a man, I just want to dance
in skirts and not heels, because they break and falter
like my words when I'm with you.
Pens trace lines on word-filled pages and scar-filled skin
Loving to save the life of my soul
is what you do best (or I do best, or we do best together).
So sing now and sing loud and sing because it's us
who have the time to live.

//

he was likely, they said
to love and laugh and Live!
it was the glint of promise in his beaming eyes
that made his name one of hope and whispers of
the Future
he was to be the one to take those Ruby Red Slippers and fly
away home
instead of turning his head in a
< fatal >
look back
and bring us pictures, they said, and stories and
Memories to make into our own and fit into a flip-book
and so the Boy flew
dancing across clouds and laughing a song
of gold

//

Your fingertips graze the pavement and Oh,
it feels like ice
between the spaces of your toes and the light slips through,
shining onto your face,
highlighting your cheekbones for
me to examine.