For the Days We Wish to Cry

Just let me spill over,

Fall with the dripping rain,

Spinning till we crash and split

Into seven drops of serenity.

But I am still falling, love.

Brightly Violent

She thinks in colors too,

looking forward to the prolonged nights

of utilizing firehoses to extinguish

the inner rage and frivolity

suppressed by family and discordant relationships.

My, how she dreams, and smiles,

and without even knowing 

pulls me in

gently

to her warmth

of both subdued and 

brightly violent colors.

Appreciate love?

I’m so happy to have existed

were I to have known only her.

I am a being of higher value,

above the animals that haunt and stalk

the memories of the Egyptian ghosts.

In her painted eyes

I beheld man,

clinging to a rose of beauty,

rising out of chaos and into light,

but his roots pulled him back down…

it’s all in the upper body, I s’pose.

I saw myself then.

And now it's cold outside,

but thanks to you

the imagination's warm again.