A Believer

He woke to tastebuds vying to recall

green grass’ wet scent–

Granny Smith, tart and crisp.

Sits on his palate in a yellow house

in somewhere Indiana

bitter roots and semi-rot instead.

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Love

 

Alphabet soup settles,

 

beguiles, during rainy cold

 

churning with exes and ohs

 

dancers in memory

 

exclaims of thorn and rose;

 

 

 

forget me, forget me not:

 

Gerbera, Daisy, Peony  

 

holds the eye to

 

illuminate petals

 

jarred in metal and glass

 

 

 

Kisses’ wet imprint

 

lost under debris and touch:

 

manmade, fabricated, rushed,

 

natural, earthy, a simmering broth

 

opens chambers heavy in locks

 

 

 

Quotes from Shakespeare,

 

“Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

 

“Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?”

 

“The course of true love never did run smooth.”

 

“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.”

 

 

 

Verity is best with diamonds and poems

 

warming in a bowl, letters,

 

Xeroxing the thoughts in her head:

 

yesterday, today, and tomorrow

 

Zigs and zags to fill a ceramic night.