Rays kindle my pink—

gold over my pale hue.

Sun-spilled freckles bloom,

almost like paint splatter

on an earthy canvas,

late in the August heat.

​

Sensitive cheeks redden,

tingling with a gentle burn;

for light guides

my wondering eye—

gilding my iris of brown,

as if it were the amber sky.

​

Hazy waves start to rise,

as this summer heat

swells with warmth.

Must the sun throw a fit?

Scorching the Earth's core

until my vision ripples and blends.

The screen lights up the darkened room:
a sudden, shrill, intrusive bloom.
He turns away; he lets it ring,
he wants no part of anything—
just idle chatter, dull requests,
the daily strain of small behests.
He leaves it humming on the wood,
and tells himself it’s understood. 

It dies away, then starts anew;
the second ring cuts through and through.
It jars his quiet, breaks his rest:
a sharp and irritating pest.
He pushes down the plastic spine
to choke the frantic, buzzing line.
He claims the quiet for his own,

I’m an ungainly cherry blossom,
A bitter devotion to lean and slump,
With an untimely bud here and there,
And a sprawl of arms pointing up.

The nursing stump never leaving me
To long for her carbon dark and sweet
With high hopes for the rosy bud,
She is met with a hollow dud.

Though I could change, my petrified trunk
A mirage of the promise made.
How I dream of my blooming crown
To soften again her knotting bark.

Dawn breaks like a bloodshot eye,
scent of life-force about to die.
Seeing his paw prints in the clay,
you are mine on this day.
Must remain as suspended breath,
to deliver the velocity of death.
There by the liquid glow,
your majesty I came to know.
Glory in all your might,
as I have you in my sight.
Steady my lungs now freeze,
on the trigger now; lightly squeeze.
Shock wave as lead lets fly
by the water's edge, you now lie.