December Is The Month In Which I First Read Your Words The Month In Which I First Struggled To Understand

Two star signs, two ruled by The moon and sun All the other signs are planets They are the exception The royal luminaries Glowing in their heaven

Two signs formed side by side In the vastness A sparkling duality amidst the Ever orbiting constellations

Together here, if nowhere else In the maps, in the blue The moon and sun Exist forever in twilight In that narrow stretch of time Where day and night softly meet

She covers herself In tattoos And piercings Dyes her hair Many vibrant colors Then says She doesn't like Modified bodies And uses it As a reason Not to be with me

Writer, close the blinds on me I never asked to be your muse I feel on display, naked even You undress me, do you not?

Make your romantic art of me So long as I remain nameless If you find a beautiful bird in me Then paint me uncaged, as I am

You write your numerous pages Their edges are sharp and they cut Paper cuts, no one sees them So you do not see the whole of me

I hold you, your feelings are okay I would never stifle you, I promise But your words evoke a memory You immortalize me as I forget

Icicles on a tree branch, glittering The barren thing adorned anew Similar to the way the leaves grew When birds were still out twittering

The ice hangs like daggers or teeth Or diamonds hung around a neck A delicate or dangerous effect Be wary those who pause beneath

To catch them as they drip and fall And crash upon a wooden floor Shattered, a delicate thing unmoored Such glass is sweet at the end of it all

This day is so vibrant And vivid, exposure turned up The sky such a dense, Saturated blue

This day is alive, It is singing in color Look, those trees are so green Much greener today

This day whistles In flocks, buzzes with bees Flickers on water, Dancing, today is dancing

Dust, dust I am dust Brush me from the windows Or sweep me out the door Dust, dust Flying dust I don’t know where to land Or where I’ve been before

Close your eyes, I'm in the corner of your mind, The corner you see in your Peripheral vision but hardly look at. I'm in the shadows with a match, The flame that crackles and sizzles And sparks, burning lower Until the tiny coals go out Between my finger tips. I'm the light that shines When you can't always see.

Close your arms, I'm the warm, solid Scarred and healed Body that fits between your limbs Like the smallest Of the nesting dolls. I'm the familiar smell of Sweat and sage, unwashed And a little greasy, I'm the familiar sensation you can feel In bed when you lay awake at night, The last breath before sleep.

Don't close your heart, We've both been hurt, Dragged across the street And unknowingly scratched up By one another. I am your inner child's teddy bear, The one that's missing an eye With a bit of stuffing coming out. We are the animals we keep on pillows When we are old When we are bit more gentle, When we have the thread To sew up the torn parts. When we don't need to be Perfect anymore.

What are the laws of nature? Can you tell me? I can only think of one That energy cannot be created Or destroyed That it can only reconstruct One form into another

So what makes a flower bloom? Did I give the blossom My energy? I assume it comes from somewhere Within the soil, the stem But let me believe I can transform Into a beautiful thing too

We are so entwined I don't know which love is yours Or which kiss is mine

This poem got away from me How cliche It's something all poets will say So am I a poet at all? If I'm just letting the words fall Where they may?

(I wouldn't describe myself that way)