Soulmate

The meeting of two souls
Holds more power 
Than a bolt of lightning 
When it rips through the fabric 
Of a midnight sky

Strong enough to bend 
The mightiest of will powers
Like the birch of a tree folds,
Fooled by the guise 
Of soft snow. 

After the Fight

It is nine in the morning. I wake up crying, eye balls stinging as if slit by papercuts. I spent half the night burying a thousand muffled thoughts into the pillow, anxiety gripping me like quicksand.She looks up, noticing my tears, her puckered lips still blanketing my right nipple. "What are we going to do about that", she asks, that being as elusive as shadows. She takes my hand, and with the peace of a mother, sits me down by the edge of the bed. "Nothing," I say. "People cry sometimes."

We lay back, temples brushing , our heads laying heavy as stones against our beanbag bed. "Do you think one can love too strongly," her eyes like water - tired, blue. "Do you think love creates war?" The tips of her hair escape my fingers; they are slippery and soft,like satin. I reach for them, as if trying to touch light."Love is always good," I say, more to myself than to her. Her eyes close, and she smiles, offering me her trust like a blind to the cane. "Not all things are brittle, meant to be broken and destroyed by time," I suddenly remember a quote from a movie watched the night before. I give her the words like a sermon, hoping she would take them as mine. "Some things grow stronger and better. Right?" She nods. I look at her, searching for her with unknown desperation, as if digging for treasure buried in some past. With the calmness of death we lay still, like repentant children, our arms tucked in each other.

"Yes, I still want to marry you."

Guitar Girl

She speaks to angels.
Her voice is soft, like a whisper of harps,
And her mane, a voluminous flower,
A wild fire sheltering
Her sapphire eyes,
            Lids pressed shut,

Her head
            Bowed in reverie,
Like a saint in prayer.

I fall in love

With the girl that speaks to angels
Her hands, strong
Hold her weapon by the nape - safe -
Like a mother to a child,
The wood stripped naked –
A virgin awaiting the touch. 

I fall in love again

As her fingers trace sharp steel,
Swift, like grass tips
Or the rivulets of a river

When grazed by the shiver
Of the morning breeze.

And the strings, disciples, dutiful and obedient,
Respond to her caress, like lips respond to kisses.

I fall in love again

With the girl with ocean eyes
Who mingles with the angels.
I search for her in every strum,

Listen for her soul in every psalm of her guitar,
Like a star in lost light.

And I fall in love again.