The Light Loves You So

The light loves you so
that the sun hangs on in the sky
and refuses rest,
the moon waits
widow white and worthless
without the night,
and once proud time stands still.

I borrow my next breath
from your hands.

The light loves you so
that the sun bares its teeth at shadows,
the moon weeps,
and time sands itself smooth.

I drink dreams
and dine on drought.

The light loves you so
that the sun finally burns itself blind,
the moon creeps
wily
from the willows,
and time regains its fragile footing.

I am as much yours
as I was before.

For Open Link Night at dVerse

Bent

My every beat
and bone and breath
is bent
toward you

like a flower follows light
and swallows the sun

while still remaining rooted
and firmly fixed;

 a blossom breaking sky
 from broken ground.

For Open Link Monday at Real Toads

Em

She writes
to the faint light
of a window
across the way

poems that linger
on her fingers
and smudge her lips;

kisses,
soft as untried wings,
forever longed for
in her singular, untried darkness.

Written with my neice, Hayden, for Fireblossom Friday at Real Toads

Skipping Twilight

Darkness deadfalls quick
and buries day's bruising bright
under bliss black limbs.

For Tackle It Tuesday and Open Link Monday at Real Toads

Inheritance

Flat feet,
thick, dark hair,
a need to please
that bleeds all over
everything I touch.

Absent handed gifts
tied tight

with why did you leave
and forget me knots.