to be ever well

I am

made of

too much

at times.

Tears

prickle

my eyes

when

love

comes

swiftly,

swelling

heavy & sweet

as molasses

in my

throat,

reminding me:

you are not

(have not—

will not)

ever be

alone.

So much

grateful,

I may

just

burst—

split

into

thousands

of yellow

petals,

rain on

the

beautiful

heads

of those

below me.

Red

fire-shadows

dance

warm

on

the walls

of my

soul,

smell

like:

musky

cedar

soap,

her

floral

perfume,

soggy

wet

dog.

Forgiveness

here;

sharp

&

sweet as

red cinnamon candy

biting

at my tongue.

Let the broken

mend,

heal it

well,

fill it

graciously,

trickle

forth

in

heart-giving

love.