“Tell me,

What do you want?”

Shall I give you eyes to see?

Gentle moments that follow one another like pearls slipping off string.

The essence of crushed rose after dusty rain

Dusty oils

Honey served on a silver spoon?

Only rubbed back essentials, darling

Only your patina soul.


The sky cries, tears, for all the lost boys.

Rain splashes upon pavement, forming puddles, which stream tiny rivulets, canals of water. Gravity, that inevitable force, beckons the water home. Listen, as it rushes, through the storm drains.

There was a time I would have folded newspaper into the shape of a boat, grabbed my raincoat from the hook, donned my boots, and set sail. My mind, headed somewhere, anywhere, far away.

It was a time of innocence. A simpler space. A fleeting moment when I believed in good.

You asked if I remembered.

I said, “Not sure.”

The truth? I never forgot. How to forget the moment I stood on the edge of reason: to leave, to stay.

Your smile lit the world. Wherever you are, I hope the sun is shining.

When winter calls, pause and recall my loving arms, wrapped ’round you, like a blanket.

I held on too tight.

As rain falls, be still. Sit with forgotten memories. Let them needle into skin: tiny, tattooed moments that ended, far too soon. We could have made it.

This is why we love. This is how we learn.

~ Annie