An iced-lemon birthday cake

decorated with brown swirling letters.

You offered me a slice, but it was yours.

I would have none tonight—

no use in isolated celebrations of the sun

revolving round the earth once more.


It revolves:  we evolve

Not Darwin, just compromise.

We change our delights to delight others

Left with a faded memory of the self,

like unholy grains of sand pouring through our fingers.


I met you in a dream the other night.

You stood at the gateway of another world,

the sky a fusion of crimson reds, startling pinks and

ethereal  violets.

I stood, watching from a creaking doorway

in a hue of sleepy greens and blues.


I woke to find you sleeping beside me,

recording haunted poetry behind your eyelids.

Stroking your cheek with delicate hands,

I remembered how and why we got here.


Our love flutters and stutters like a butterfly

—or maybe a homing pigeon.

It flies to different spaces only to return,

remembering its place of origin.