Incoming Empties Message

please hang up this is a recording..

please hang up this is a..

please hang up this is..

please hang up this..

please hang up..

please hang..

please..

misfire, message undeliverable. 

the person you are currently calling..

no longer exists,

at this point in time, 

due to some tailspin of dire need to displace 
their heart and stow it away in a case of empties,
 a case you'd never think to look 
because the liquid gold is in the one closest to the door. 

please hang up 

and try your call again..

to be more careful with the decibel for which your voice may falter, 
choose wisely the words you wish to spew because 
there is a certain technicality that can be caused 
if you are too wishy washy 
with the correct instructions you are about to give.

Dislodged Hearts Play Pinball

The heart ticking like a clock in an extravagant case called the human body. The stain glass panes of the eyes reflect the tinkering that snuggles near the lungs. Press two fingers; here, here, here for signs of life and for questions with no answers. The heart beats, sending tiny vibrations on a racetrack of veins and bones and muscles. You can feel it in the soles of your feet, it is still undetermined if the heart navigates with the soul. Knee caps, rounded as if the heart were to dislodge itself and play a smooth game of pinball throughout the beautiful maze of your body. The heart; a gem worn on the sleeve, but also hidden in a treasure cove surrounded in a variety of shades of red and dressed up in your finest attire.  

Chapped

the chap of their lips explores the lush canvas of one another

the leadership is equally shared on the breathing nations of his and hers

the curvature of his being, built with her in mind, a perfect match

the universe sends out its stars

to celebrate their unison

a shiver ripples through her to him 
the climb is met with expectancy and love filled eyes

there is a pulse from two hearts

that beg to collide,

it spreads like wildfire,

gets louder with each throb,

creating a beat that only

they know the dance too

Little Bit of God in Your Hair

a god has decided to take

shelter in your hair

in the right shade of late afternoon

light you can just make out the

faintest bit of its smile

their is a certain spark,

almost like the fizz of mineral water,

that dances about your head

there is a god living in the

essence of your hair

smiling to all those you meet,

inviting us in to stay awhile.