poem

unkept weeds grow between  fragile pieces of my body.
        time slips fast, like water in a still pond.
everywhere i go silhouettes of you remind me 
of that biter summer air. taste of milkweeds 

and brown sunflowers linger on my tainted    tongue.

    our laughter twisted high into the milky clouds.
places our fingers first met, where we used to dance 

below a pale moon. the song of the crickets 

would fill the humid night as our eyes 

would fall further into one another.
   as years turn into centuries, my rose heart 

would begin to crumble
   and it was always you who would come back to 

pick up the shattered pieces in the dead of winter. 

where nothing speaks and our still pond has 

iced over, scattered with fallen 

acorns and the weak shine of the January sun.
       i have always loved you 

as if you were mine 

and the sons of Spring 

                    were our children.

                Queen Of Crows