Into Saturday Night

I awakened him with a soft exhale
One that was on purpose

Long

The timing of which had nothing to do with anything
Except fate and skin and the sixth-sense that is subconsciousness

And though this was his Sunday
That blessed day of rest
Seemed unnecessary, he said

As we sank back
Into Saturday night

Feverish

Same Measure

Jump through hoops
Come away singed
Whipped
Like a circus animal
Deserving this fate

But don’t believe
Whitewashing the past
Time
Or some forgiving heart
Will redeem you

Artist Credit: Tiger R., age 11

Green

And when we’re nearly ninety-nine

Fading, yet certain of our fate and the love it made with us

Green still, relatively so

We’ll walk, treasuring the sands, the time

The Fates

Why did you act like water and feel like hands

And I, born thirsty with never a progenitor to touch me

Why did I, the reluctant saint, concede nonetheless to True North’s tug

And you, the only lesser god ever worth worshipping

Fated Fade

All that you asked
Was that I be different
Than the one
I always was

You are no different
Than the one
Who came before you
Who asked me to be different 

Invisible now
Is that different enough
What more will you ask
Of the fade

Lisa

I thought I wore a headdress
I thought I donned glass heels
I thought I had high cheekbones
I thought my soul appealed
But as fate would want it
And I’d not dare deny
The heart I thought had strummed my name
Played Julie’s lullabye