play me that song you like
the one where we dance in April rain
let’s be restless through the night
aloof in summer linen

and when we feel out of sorts
we’ll wear our blues and
remember every line
I’ll gaze as your lip curls,
crescent moon


the youthful glow
a ray of sun
bursting through the sill
egg’s yolk spilling
soaking into burnt toast
the back of my hand is
warm from the sunlight
the cutlery reflects
right into my eyes
my father spoons another helping onto my plate


sometimes I find myself
dreaming of my past selves
and how I can become them
more beautiful, more youthful

I’m learning to celebrate me
by not wishing to be
who I was yesterday
what a disservice that is
to consider today nothing short of


I’m doing my best to
make time and celebrate
all the parts of me that
I can’t quite seem to love.

for I am only pieces of this
delicate machine
and if all I can do is
my best,
then that’s what I’m going to do.