how was your day?
good.
Is good all that is?
Of what I asked and wanted
to hear.
To care?
I thought of you
Of how you felt and thought and felt
But of course the reasoning
stripped bare,
you said good 
without a care.

is the chorus of my thoughts
congruent with my desire
or are the thoughts that tether
my false expectations of reality
binding my view of now?
I saw you in an instance
and in an instance you were gone
how is that now I come to follow
my wayward thoughts to you?

we saw the light
glowing in the rhythm 
pulsing like a virtue
hanged upon our bowed heads.
it was a night where
the light glanced across our busts,
in a breath I saw our faces,
Out of my own body 
I saw the world
and us in the world I saw - 
some temporal picture
doomed.

I tried to laugh about it
hiding the tears in my eyes.
The stinging - it burned.
Their faces - I hate it,
A laugh accompanied me
A shadow trailing me,
while I rode their words,
with a pained smile and a laugh.

Stolen Dreams

Across from some coffee and a cornbread muffin,
Yesterday I believe I told you of my dreams.
They came by night in whispers
stepping so slight on the creaky floorboards
toward those trailing thoughts I had of you -
And when the whispers drew away
stolen were my thoughts of you. 

Souls on Fire

You sink to the ground -
With your back against the wall,
And a glass of wine in your hand,
My eyes met your eyes -
Our souls caught on fire.
Even if it’s only for one night
that I am beside you 
watching the skies burn bright,
holding you until it smolders
I will wake in the morning satisfied.

Submissions were Accepted for Publication Spring 2013

I got the email today:

Even though it’s just a small campus magazine, it’s consoles me. I’ve never really been talented at anything my whole life. If I were to say anything, I’d say that I was good at reading. Gosh, I devoured books like they were Reese’s cups (I normally abstain from sweets; but whenever I see some Reese’s cups, I take a moment to indulge). 

In high school, I was pretty bad at everything; if I was mediocre, I was content. It just felt that no matter how much will I poured into an endeavor, it would just go poof. When the acceptance from Emory arrived, I knew that it was all God. I accepted it as such - something I didn’t deserve. Even now, the success that’s met me while in college I find undeserved. Each opportunity and each step I’ve taken, it was by His grace - and how I revel in His grace. I know I’m an amateur at best. I haven’t taken a single English class during my four years in college so far, and I’m definitely not taking one in the two years before I graduate. So, it’s reassuring that I’m capable of producing something that people can read and enjoy. 

Remembering You

My memory escapes me,

but I still remember every little thing.

Maybe not some dates that fall on days –

Called appointments and other silly things,

but I remember the contours of your dress,

how the light danced across your back,

how you smelled,

on our first date…

I remember your laugh broken between -

“how was your day”

and in the in between of how you lost your way.

I didn’t remember to feed the cat,

or dry the dishes

but I won’t ever forget

to kiss your forehead - goodnight.

I am forgetful

because

I am so terribly - terribly busy,

Being lost in you.

Adventures

I feel like going
Do you feel like coming?