Stitches Can Be Removed & Other Sewing Tales

i had given up
sewing
traded my needles
and threads
for loneliness
and darkness
then you came along
i started falling for you
stitching every poem
with threads of feelings
growing inside
day and night
i toiled to keep up
with the heart’s spinning
churning out
the most beautiful pieces
but you weren’t fond
of the hues in the fabric
of my feelings
never wearing
what my heart
made with love
so, with the help of
regret’s shaking fingers
and sadness’ encouragement
i removed every stitch
and started over

*Been wanting to post this for a while but have not. I’ve moved on from a lot in my time in this world. After Reading Brandi’s, “Letting Stuff Go and Moving On“, I am inspired to share. Here’s to all of us who have had to remove the stitches from wounds, pick ourselves up and move on. Thank you, Queen B. 🙂

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Searching for Metaphors In You

i searched inside you
looking for you
and this is what i found…

you are:
warmth
in a ray of sunshine;
guiding light
from an autumn moon;
a breeze of wind
to fill empty sails;
a cool droplet of rain
on parched lips;
nourishment
for a starving heart;
home
to a restless soul

i know there is more
so i keep digging

A Constellation Called Hope

For B… the Emoji Queen 🙂 , for staying true to herself and for being an inspiration. 🙂

tonight i gaze upon
a new constellation
burned into the universe
by the trials and tribulations of
the downtrodden and beat
the bullied and neglected
the weary and lost

tonight I gaze upon
hope
the hope you offer
for each new generation
the hope of
a better
tomorrow
for those who dare
to stand up for others
for those who remain
true to themselves

The End of An Ice Age

in late night
daydreams,
i’ve tossed-turned-tasted the
glistening hues
of your soul’s essence,
in the lust-laden sweat forming
on your naked, exotic body;
followed the sensual stream,
with my eager, starving tongue,
through the drenched, humid valley carved
between your perfectly shaped breasts;
found myself thirst-quenched
around the brimming well of your navel;
and fumbled
with focused fingers
onto the promised paradise
to be drowned
in the nectar
of your damp oasis
ending another ice age