heavy as the cream
that sinks to the bottom of my coffee
(i don’t drink coffee)
heavy as the cream
that sinks to the bottom of my coffee
(i don’t drink coffee)
In person I cannot form my sentences properly
my thoughts jumble up in my head
so i act silly to mask it all
for fear i’ll look stupid
I get nervous
I keep searching for something
something I’ve lost
but I can’t find it so easily
I didn’t lose it on purpose
it was sort of taken away
and reshaped
and remoulded
into something unrecognisable
so
I keep searching
searching for the thing I’ve lost
today I found a puddle
and dipped my toes into it
the sun and clouds wobbled up and down
before settling back into
a perfect reflection
a perfect imitation
of what is real
shoes partly submerged
i stood at the doorway
to this other worrld
staring down at the other me
I’m a writer you see
so when my heart is broken in two
I will take my art, my glue
to piece together my heart of words
and write a different poem for you
Little fingers
place petals of gold
on my palm
secrets
written in the
language of the sun
I decided it’s okay
to lose myself
in the ink
I arrange on the page
the thousands of twinkling stars above
are the eyes of my ancestors
gazing into the future
Me
I am the future
Waiting at ocean’s edge.
Waiting for tide to come in.
Waves grow larger
crashing on shore,
breaking as they hit rock.
I wait,
tasting salt on my tongue.
as the sun comes up
she basks the land in gold
as she rises further still
her light reaches me
and rests on my skin
.
it is her gift, her magic
given to the ones who greet her