the uncrush

Storm come through a clearing out
recollections stoutly clenching hard
against their mothers tit and strings
till they pulled a knot being on toward.

Knot come undone

they fell aside

she looked about

little heart previously denied.

First pale blossoms spreading sweet
cheeks flushed deep peach in the heat
fire and ice, embraced and denied
in the white space where doors stood ajar.

The Uncrush began to stir

she grew still

heart beat too fast to hold

all against her will.

Yester morn the dawn come soft
she stretched long and lean
the blush of summer kissed her lips
small hands searched between.

what am I thinking...

The list I built these two years past
in review today I see perchance.
and yet newly I have secrets…
secrets that could burn.

Words won’t just come
now I sit down to write for
somehow I am not lost,
neither hurt nor bruised.
I am not deep in crushes
light and free, nor whoring
passions bright and gay.
I sit in soft soliloquy
in the white space awhirl,
brave and unsure, forward
yet shy in blushes and smiles
knowing I’m okay either way
but open to chance and curious
I meet the new day flushed.
Is this what hope is?

I write in the dim lit
of the sun softly leaving,

sway to soft sounds
melodically pink.

I am the little girl longing
after having lost so much.

What am I thinking?