I think of you thus:/
Blushing pink, soft petals, with/
the sweetest fragrance.

Late night.
Cool desert breeze
flows
through basement
windows.

Sweat drips
down my face
as I sit
and write,
solo,
into the night.

Thought I’m grateful
for inspiration’s
lightening bolts,
I thought only
menopausal women
got
hot
flashes.

She cares intensely./
Her worry overwhelms. Why?/
Then I meet her mom.

OR
She selflessly cares./
Her worry overwhelms. Why?/
Then I meet her mom.

A giant mirror/
around the jaccuzzi says/
I need to work out.

I can’t take credit for this one (I overheard it), but it is so brilliant I want to post it.

“Everthing in moderation. Isn’t that what they say?
Except for Love.
There’s no moderation in Love.”

She broke my heart before,/
but now I’m really hurt./
She walked out the door/
and left behind a soccer shirt.

I make detailed plans./
Others, much better, come forth./
I pick awesomeness.

Do you prefer/
(he asked demur/
ly)/
tulips,/
or 2 lips,/
on petals you can’t see?

When emotions flood,/
they must find outlets faster/
than mere fingertips.