SAGE

Death called my namesome time ago, asking for a gift I would notgive, words I would not whisper, ashes offeredto a mid-May sky, a girl I cry for on summer days   rolling like a lake trolledas a child, doorknob lure  swallowed whole guttedby milk glass hands, head-  less they know my despair,flesh tickled pink w/ fresh lemon zest, tasting of […]

I offered my reflectiona simple kiss, it ripplesin return like blossomsfloating in the summer breeze, whispering fall.