written for a birthday on December 11th, 2024 (12/11/24)
Double doors swing open when you approach, as they had been waiting for your arrival
Patches of light decorate the floor, and illuminate books on the shelves
Glass chimes refract the sun’s shine into thousands of rainbow shards
One single book stands slightly askew from the rest, it doesn’t take much to remove it.
Inscriptions and runes are carved onto the covers’ surface, etched into the deep purple
You scour through the pages until you reach the acknowledgements.
The names and are in a language you can’t decipher, but
You can immediately tell the author loves every one most dearly,
The way every letter swoops and turns gives this away quite clearly.
As you then turn to table of contents, you notice something strange;
The way the texture rubs on your skin everytime you flip a page.
You tear off a corner and plant the thin sheet on your tongue
The dark taste of chocolate ripples endlessly throughout your system
You tear a piece off the ribbon that separates both sides of literature; mint. Peppermint.
There’s a spot beside the window; sugar dust calmly traces your figure as you sit upon it.
Glass cools your thoughts and mind; you lie your head in rest against it.
Patches adorning the quilt atop your lap are different patterns and colors.
Double doors swing closed when the grey cat enters; her striped fur is soft against your skin.
written for a pet on May 28th, 2024 (5/28/24)
A silly soft creature is wild and quick
Kneading on shoes, socks, and blankets so thick
Ignore all our traps and escape by a hair
Race to the garden, you’ll crouch on the ground
A face full of cobwebs, you’ll make not a sound
Kneel by the car, enough of your antics
It’s too late for these games, and you’re getting too sick
Tear through our hearts and leave your mark there
Too stubborn to handle, a sweetness profound
Yet though you are absent, your love will resound
written for a birthday on June 30th, 2025 (6/30/25)
dipped in hues of blue and green; aquamarine
it lies in wait, patiently—wings flap, restlessly
awaiting something, waiting for nothing
Nothing at all
all is nothing, but nothing's not all.
rest and enumerate.
reflect and recuperate.
it's impossible to lose it all.
because of this, it goes on
if there is nothing, go gift it your all
there's nothing to lose, after all
and there's something amidst the nothing:
If you believe you can fly, it's impossible to fall