What…?

What hands have held my face, to stare into my soul?

What lips have breathed a lifetime of my kisses stole?

What voice has whispered me my truth, my secrets sealed untold?

What arms have held me in a haven, my broken heart consoled?

What legs have walked a million miles to arrive upon my threshold?

What heart has answered the siren’s song our bindings to behold?

What worth is placed on eternal devotion, more valuable than gold?

What gifts be given to thine own true love, from youthful glow to old?

Filet O’Flesh

What words could flay the thin skin from the soul

Exposing the veins in sinew, while squishing anguish

Thick with fleshy catastrophes?

Spilling grief haphazardly?

Wailing from the stained soles of her feet,

her knees met a false purpose to dishonest prophets,

Swindling in the dwindling twilight of a horribly dark Friday

Immobile she rejected whole-i-ness

She desecrated the vacant hallows, roughly refusing relief

Vehemently offering insincere micro-aggressions

She no longer held skin over her bones, she faded absent

A Walk Through Her

Soul Reflections

Soul Reflections

I walked through her soul picking stray bits and pieces,

Stringing the pearls, stitching them together

With dreams made of pink stitched green ribbon

I made it into a bouquet as a tribute to her beauty

Caught at the peak of fertile perfection

Lightly scented with the essence of her glory

Her gift to the living, loving world.