Even Numbered Dreams.

I have always fallen for the
evened numbered things in
life – counting stars in pairs
to the heavens and believing
in possibilities set in rhythms
of jazz serenading the moon,
closing my eyes with every
third lightning strike as if I
could avoid the rarity of odd
numbers as though there was
a burden or a curse that comes
in singularity; so perhaps, my
darling, I was meant to love
you, for a second time in life?

Promises in Transition.

Set against the backdrop
of auburn and gold, rising
in the earliest hours of the
day when the world is still
full of promise, and reality
hasn’t yet tampered with
our dreams – where I can
still wake with the desire
of you in my mind, even
if I can’t reach out to you –
where I can still rise with
a smile, cast against the
glow of a sunrise set in
mid October, filled with its
own promise of a change
still desirable, yet to come.

Insight Seven.

There are words between us
that neither will ever say – deeply
rooted in an honesty that burns,
touched by the stars in wishes
set with memories and distance
in time. We’re dancing between
the silence, swallowing the words
every time they nestle on our lips
as though actions aren’t speaking
loudest, while we can pretend the
words aren’t there, even though we
both know what the other cannot
say; whispering to the moon every
night under the blanket of stars
covered in second chances that
will one day consume us both.

LV Letters – Five

It was the way the ripples in
her eyes, shallow yet focused
made me dream; crossing the
waters and believing in second
chances past the horizon – still
moving forward against the
grains of the current of every
wish laying just outside of her
eyelashes, beating gently with
promises of possibilities and
an ounce of hope in thoughts,
believing in chances and love.

Visions of Stars.

I watched my memories
fall from the trees in colors
of orange and autumn; burned
by the contours of the sun in a
surprise afterglow of summer,
whistling songs past the gentle
grazes of the sun kissing the
clouds goodnight. And with the
light seasoned change, I found
a star to love – patiently waiting
for me to touch with a poets
hand, bending twice with a
devotion in a dance at dusk
with the rise of a new moon.

Speaks Loudest.

So much for words when
only actions hold any truth;
resemblances of the ideas
we can’t form into coherent
thoughts past our lips, instead
focusing on silence and the
act of distance to showcase
feelings – providing time to
play the enemy, and for our
memories to fall apart under
pressure, as though actions
aren’t in fact confrontation,
nestled on the lips of a lie.


I could have sworn to the right
side of heaven, you’d never put
me through this hell; forcing the
silence to deliver your goodbye
as you quiver inside memories
of us swearing we’d never say
such words, light at the touch
and too fragile to fall, as though
it was only another action left for
us mere mortals here on earth, too
confined in confrontation to bare
witness – so you can preach your
silences, I’ll still speak the fluid
language of love, meant only for
your ears, even if you can’t hear
me past your goodbyes left silent.


If my words mean nothing
then why do you shed light
on them during the hours
following the break of the
moon – filling your thoughts
with serenades and sonnets
of the love that I have for you,
which you aren’t allowing to
grow; bending the edges of
the words into hardened and
misshapen truths as though
honesty is the reality you’re
running from, and I am the
keeper of twice painted lies.

Verses in October.

I crave a few grains of poetry,
blessed from the stars in light
of the moon, swirling between
thoughts cast in the minds of a
hopeless romantic and a realist;
bouncing off the reflections of
the stars as they parade on the
horizon, mapping out the colors
of where the sun will rise and
counting down visions from the
heavens, whispering promises
to the moon in a repetition of
clues and colors, masquerading
as the onset of a lover found.

The gamble.

I played my final hand,
knowing the odds against
my favor, as all I needed
was the queen of hearts
nestled deeply behind the
blue print found in your
hand – as I waited patiently
for you to lay your cards on
the table, and yet instead of
taking all that was left of me,
you got up, silently walking
away, taking your cards and
my queen of heart with you.