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Personal Note:

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Poem

The sky bathes the harbor in cyan turquoise
cadet-blue sea foam bubbles the only gorget one has
versus the flamingos and canaries absconding littoral mire
the gashes on my feet, the burn in my gracilis
have returned me yet again to
sanctum:
la vie en rose,

where

lips breathe lunarias into drift bottles
love songs the only tune in our ears,
lilac mica on denim morpho
is the heart in my chest,
and the color of your hair
when the sun decides
its inevitable rest
everything must come to an end,
but the feeling I get
when you scrunch your nose
and shake wisteria dust
off raven plumes
eclipsing spinel

opals

and if describing them is the one thing I can do,
then the paint in my mouth may go stale
fingertips now pruney, lazy, tired  
vision indispensable falling pallid
the paper of my visage a 
wrinkly, 
sallow
pity
but the young wish of a besotted soul
to grow old with your puling orbs

granted

ink sinks the coral lens 
your darling hands
have fixed over my head
but my legs are torn, 
and my teeth broken
aching
for another laugh
rumbling through
your vibrating back
that my cheek is pressed into,
and I drown
willing
smile
wistful
hush

still.

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