woke every morning and
dressed in the sun, then
dreamt in the breezeway
where the day's laundry
hung. She listened for
him in the summery hum;
sometimes she was honey,
sometimes she was stung.

He decided to put it off.
To not tell her how he really felt.
He thought it would change things,
And boy did it, but not how he expected....

He thought she would climb mountains and cross rivers to earn his love.
He thought he was too good for her.

When in reality, she was the one to escape when she didn't get what she wanted.

Her instincts told her he was bad news. But like any other adolescent wreck, she desired a bad boy. Her best friend accused her of insanity as she fell for the motorcycle-riding, cigarette-rolling, tattooed rebel. But she simply ignored it.

You had to give him props: he wasn't all bad:
He made her feel special, made her feel wanted. Held her hand in public, took her for romantic rides, listened to her as she spilled her feelings out to him on top of his garage, gazing longingly at the stars.

But as soon as it came down to the three magic words, he let his opportunity slide right by him.

From then on, he played hard to get, not opening up to her as easily, and the signs were clear as crystal to her.

She left him in a heartbeat.

Now he lies alone, yearning for the days when he has someone to hold.
He was afraid to admit he missed her, but missing her was all that he knew to do.

Now riding her very own Harley Davidson, she rides off into the night, forgetting the boy who refused to admit he loved her..

Maybe it was something I did. Something I said. Something that could've been avoided, maybe not.
I could've waited, stalled a little longer, but I couldn't hold back the words that changed you.
They tried to tell me how crazy I was, chasing after a carnie. But I was stupid enough not to listen.
They tried to tell me that I was just gonna end up crying with a broken heart, and I was rebellious enough to ignore it.
So now you'll go on with your life, leaving me behind.
And I'll regret the words I spoke too soon for the rest of my life.
You'll continue to be the wonderful carnie you are.
And I'll keep being the reckless little girl who fell in love with a carnie and never looked back.
We'll part ways as strangers who were once lovers, and you'll reminisce on the times we spent together.
I'll go become a chef, or a waitress, and hope you'll come into my restaurant and sweep me off my feet, just like that summer of pure happiness and freedom.
Girls will crawl backwards to be with you, but you'll know in your heart that none of them will ever be me, and I'll be tripping myself up trying to get over you.
You'll meet celebrities and singers and all sorts of beautiful women.
I'll earn a big time gig with a chef from Miami, or some big city, and move away, forgetting about you.
And you'll realize that the girl you left crying in the dirt was the girl you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and I'll look back at the pictures, remembering the carnie that I was stupid enough to fall for.
You'll come searching for me, while working your many carnivals, with your heart of steel on your sleeve.
We'll run into each other somewhere down the road, an awkward run-in, but an unforgettable one.
I'll remember how much I loved you and run right back into your arms, forgetting the life I had just built for myself.
But that is just a daydream of a helpless girl who just had her young fragile heart broken by the restless carnie who was bad enough to steal it from her.
And so for now, we forgive and forget, cherishing the summer of love, the summer of swiftness, and the summer of absolute certainty.

Afflicted by the pain,
Of this acid rain.
Yet inside of this room,
I'm hidden all to soon.
Exploding from the inside,
From pressure on the out.
A hurricane inside my soul,
And in my heart a burning coal.
The pandemonium of this world,
I'm living in an evil hell.
Blocking out the words of others,
I'm hiding in my own small world.
It does not matter,
Nothing is real.
For pain is all I ever feel.
If you've ever realized,
Love always leads to pain.
To knock that thought,
Into your brain.
Then you'd realize that through love,
We have nothing to gain.

The first day
God came face to face

Spring, in front of the tree
That had forgotten roots and leaves

The slender note of complaint
Made to its friends
By the cloud that got lost

The goddess’ voice
Unheard by any but water

The flower garden  
In front of which
Grass grows with abandon

The darkened house
With cowdung – smeared floor

A cluster of moments
Of butterflies cavorting in the rain

The playhouse
Made of the wings of fireflies and moths

The seaside
Where camels enjoy the breeze

The forgotten oyster
The fry left
Under the sand

The praying hands
Of date palms
Which look upon earth from above

The wedding night
Inside the elephant shelter

Where ants frolic

A pinch of beaten rice,
Cooked, using only the twigs the pigeons bring

The anthology of words
Read and re-read
In a hand-written letter

The translation of the moment
God couldn’t quite get

what could it have been?

Covered  daughter with kisses..
She wept, alarmed

I heard the voice of God telling daughter,
” I didn’t understand anything either!”