i know one day im going to see you again
be with you again
although it may not be until
long after eternity has ended
in the grand scheme of things
when is a matter of perspective
times arrow returns to the quiver unequivocally
waiting to be reselected

do not hold
hands that do not fear
losing yours.

Don't be scared, Love;
show me your scars.
Give me a piece of your soul,
and maybe a glimpse of your mind.

I could show you beauty,
without a field of flowers.
And an amazing high,
without the foul aftertaste.

Just let me in,
let me feel your pain.
I'll touch your soul,
and make you go insane.

I am my mother's daughter,
counting coins, making piles
of nickels and dimes
we think in green, adorned
paper. Made out of trees
whose roots are planted into
our hearts, as crucial
as the valves, veins
and arteries of our ancestors.
I do not remember ever
shedding a single leave,
yet autumn comes to us
all, diseased and old,
young and healthy,
we are two ends of a
spectrum that collapses
at the sheer mass of
miracles it births,
Oak, silver birch, willow
ash... we are two women,
making ends meet, feeding
our men before ourselves.
We do not feel the weight
of wealth, saving every cent,
but our hearts are full and
their strings can be pulled
as tightly as our purses