Sin Fall

We were more than lightning
flashing against the open night,
with splinters of stars scattered
between our hearts and hands
we took a stand as the thunder
rolled, booming and crashing,
we laughed along in songs as
the rain loomed on – you and I
were always more than sparks
falling in the backdrop of night,
we were the illumination of the
storm, and the hero and the end;
tempted by the hands of fate, we
kept our sins to wash them away.

Verses in June

I crave delicate droplets
of poetry falling in rhythm
to the whispers of the wind,
where the simplest patterns
of emotion and honesty are
left to haphazard conditions
caused by the writer’s pen –
where storms can break out
in agony, tearing readers at
the core, or washes away all
sadness, starting over once
again,  where the delicacy of
words fall like droplets in the
wind, carrying my feelings
with me,  until the very end.

Reflections in Black

It was her words that held
on to me through the night,
in delicate whispers falling
sporadically like raindrops
to cleanse my beating heart
in reassurances of affection;
I feared the coming storms,
darkening the sky in littered
debris and crashing through
the shadows in far too close
lightning strikes, as I wept –
holding on to every whisper
of her delicate voice trailing
through the black and murky,
waiting for the moon to shine.