Tuesday, May 23, 2017

you 
will always be 
the safest place 
for which i can tuck 
my 
sadness 
my sorrow 
my fear 
beneath your covers
and for the moment 
i am quiet with 
rest. 

you smell of 
richly roasted 
coffee beans 
and the faintest hint 
of old spice 
i smell of earth and 
hand washing soap
maybe even a bit 
of fragrant lemon 
we hug 
and we share 
all of it. 

cold ones

"you got any beer
handy?"
a rare question mom asked 
nonchalantly..

"i've got a few Corona's?
will that do?" i respond,
still shocked that she would 
even ask-so unlike her

she accepted
so i cracked it open 
with my wooden
bar tool 
and delivered it 
over to her 
on the couch. 
i sat with her while 
we sipped and chatted 
i thought to myself 
what small 
yet joyful moment 
i am sharing with 
my mom. 

-another gift counted for the 
books 
i think it is 
a rare gift 
to find in someone 
the ability 
to genuinely rejoice 
with another.

-stronger than the 
sabotage of envy

know or no

i have this trick where 
i can share 
just enough so 
one feels as though 
they've been 
given enough 
information 
they feel 
quite confident 
that they
know me 
but i haven't revealed 
anything 
in reality
they know 
nothing.

-protection