Somewhere In-Between

If only for a little while I could return to my own mind between memory and you, deep in the heart of Christ where once I was found, I might find balance instead emotions that fill my head with doubt and wandering avid hypotheticals.


Golden are these moments with you as the sun drops beyond earth, composing hues and silhouettes of great measure. Savoring every detail, I become lost in the wonderment of captivated, lost in color and movement, lost in golden.  

A Little Piece of You

  Approaching departure we drift through rugged terrain, mountain ranges, and green hills; yellow flowers and ocean. Only hours left of your refreshing presence do I have. And though the view may disappear, you will not leave me. For within each sweet moment filled with familiar nuances, laughter, and shared excitement, I have become a…

The Miles In-Between

In the miles that separate us temporarily, though memories be made, this ole heart misses knowing you are near. Found bound yet free while visiting familiar territory, let me continue to breathe you in morning and night, so, my fonder feelings remain connected to the one I’ll be returning home to.

Patch Work

Cynical walls build back around my heart, where you tore them down. Like patch work, each stone is put back into place, while variances of purple rise and fall from the sky.


Where am I, but in my head with thoughts of you and dancing hypotheticals bending in minimal minuscule ways of ideas and actions for premeditated responses that will be long forgotten in due time.      

Holding Hands

Come. Touch my finger tips intertwine your fingers with mine lean your palm close, until your warmth moves through me, and there is no space between you&I. Let us conquer what we both have been running from the fear of rejection.

Rushing Waves

May it be of luck and wishes when stars align and my heart misses the sight of you when it’s been too long meet me at the seashore once more for song and dance as we run from rushing waves.  


For a moment I smell the freshness of wind and water; to me it smells like summer. A time I am looking forward to, when I can lay in the warm sand, lost, belonging to nobody, not even myself. But, that isn’t today. As the wind violently whips my hair against my neck and waves crash to…

Claiming Pieces

The stakes are high oh you and I lost in dream, a fantasy our little talks, engaging thoughts parlay to claim pieces of each other.

Waiting Through Doubt

The doubt isn’t that there are good ones out there, it’s waiting for him to show up.


You see me don’t you? Those message dots are keeping you captivated, waiting for a response to something you said. You wait, and keep waiting. You wonder if I’m writing a novel, then without warning the dots disappear and reappear, disappear and reappear. Meanwhile, I hesitate telling truths or beating around the bush.