Pluck both wings off a butterfly twin,
toss five bones into a black stone cauldron.
Pull three strings of a skeleton puppet,
draw a white circle around a mandolin.
One burning needle, carve into a coffin,
six long shadows swing the pendulum.
A dagger to the chest, weave the mortal flesh,
pierce the embryo outside the yolk of death.

The tree bursts from its seed, grasping for the warm glow of light shimmering just above the brown waves of soil holding it down.

It reaches higher still towards the canopy of flame-coloured leaves that ignited just months after it's first release from Earth.

The tree's roots dig deep underground, bracing the tree for the cold and harsh flurries of white gold that will soon frost every surface visible to the bright blue sky above.

Frozen in time, dormant in this pale wonderland, it waits.

It's first leaves come and go as the harsh winds and flooding rains of spring fall- The weight growing, growing-
Vanishing.

The heat causes all flooding and weight to fall away, leaving the small tree to burst with blooms of lime, forest, and celery green.

And it now holds personality,
Able to finally build a life and home in it's branches.
<SUMMER>
The winds brush against her bark, a blue bird borrows in her arms, for they are a welcoming home for her babes, a squirrel stores his acorns beside her
thickening roots, and she ages another year.

The leaves shiver and shake as the brown tire swing rocks under the weight of me.
Quoting lyrics from my favorite bands and reading passages from my favorite books, I feel my soul age another year.


The cycle begins again...
With changes.

Fall includes hot cider and light reading under her flaming colors.
I build her an army of snowmen to keep her company as we nap through winter.
In spring I plant some flowers nearby, and they admire your ancient bark.
And in the summer we start again, my days spend singing and reading to you.



And then I was gone and you continued to flourish,
Year after year and season after season.

This path is drenched in blood and tears, with me walking upon it,
My reign shall run for many years, without a question on it,

This path I pave is narrow,
But it's the only one,
To rid of all the sorrow,
I'll do what must be done,

I wish this path were one of love,
And not one of damnation,
For there is a goddess up above,
And I'm riding of her creation,

A crimson flower blossoms in it's search for the sun,
Again this path is one of pain but it's my only one.

i.
we both want to get rid of our last names.
maybe that was a sign.

ii.
we always talked about faking our deaths together
curled up on your couch when everyone was
sleeping. i hope you remember what my desperation
tasted like. at midnight i had to go.
like cinderella. but it was wintertime and the pumpkins
were moldy. you never came to my door with a shoe or a question.
maybe that was a sign.

iii.
you chased after her when i was sitting patiently at your feet.
she was joking about an anime i hadn't watched
and you got mad. the joking mad that makes you laugh until
you're red. the way you never got with me. maybe
scared that i'd run. the way you did after her. i know i shouldn't be
jealous, but.
maybe that was a sign.

iv.
i asked you what flavour i would be and you said
raspberry. i never tasted them the same again. you didn't ask me
to tell  you which you'd be, but i told you mango anyway.
who ever heard of a raspberry mango smoothie? one day i
made one. just to see what we tasted like. i could only pick out the
raspberries.
maybe that was a sign.

v.
you got a tarot reading from someone else. i tried not to be hurt, but you never wanted one from me. i was too cut up to ever
ask you why.
you told me what your cards said, and none of them were about me. i guess it's selfish.
but mine are always about you. god, do you even know
how much you break me? i must be addicted to it
because i stay. i stay and stay and stay
even when you get another tarot reading from her.
maybe that was a sign.

vi.
i always texted first. always.
maybe that was a sign.

vii.
i'm the one writing all these poems about you. like we're broken up. you never said the words, and neither did i.
but i'll never forget what the moon told me late that night
when you didn't linger at my door. half past midnight.
i try not to read too much into it, but.
maybe it was a sign.

Pristine in her posturing
She's The Mighty Phoenix
She's the elegance Swan
She's the Verses of Venus
She's the Daughter of Dawn

Remotes in her proximity
Across a dreamy grassy pond
I am the song of her destiny
I am the Lily her lotus rest upon

Dear Verses of Venus
Poetess...
You ruffled my drake feather!

The past no longer exist
The future will never be here
We will always be in this moment

The blue sky is my canvas
Until the canopy of the night
Then my brushstroke
Become comet tails
An astroid field of flight

No language in my dream
No limits of the tongue
My flights of mindfulness
Has only just begun