Written yesterday at Aroma Tea Shop

Isn’t There Any Romance in Your Soul?

It is stripped,
the paint-thinner
approach to life.

It is rubbed and worn,
a shaking head,
a waggling finger.

This is not
your playground.
The heart
holds no monkey bars,
no swing sets, no slides.
Here is empty space,
a cafe, if you will –
hear it echo and search
for what doesn’t exist.

Or perhaps it
lies in hiding,
in wait
down alleys, around corners
with blue eyes telling you
I see the exact opposite.


When You Said

That I can be brutal
I answered no,
fists curled, jaw locked
in what could almost
pass as a smile.

I wanted to hit you
as you taught me,
a boxing maneuver
to your dear chin,
two knuckles
with taut skin,
ready
to show you I care.


Nuptials

Spring offered
a day free
of cynicism.

When you said
my love
everyone smiled
at my reply.