An Elegy from the Kitchen
Sparks dazzle; jetting across the sky of my melancholy
Reflecting in the wide sea; solemnly breaking in my heart.
Never again to see his hands or face
Which so easily lulled my racing mind to peace.
The remains burn quicker than fuses on fireworks.
They illuminate the night with color and glory
And then fade away to ash or dust
Gently falling down back to Earth.
I suppose in time we all must face that loss.
A perpetual horror of the bad times yet to come
Igniting a passion in me to rejoice
And honor our quiet dinners together
Sparks dazzle; jetting across the sky of my melancholy
They illuminate the night with color and glory
Igniting a passion in me to rejoice
Past the pain of right now, into the brilliance of what was
and will be.
Six Word Stories:
Lost the ring and my promise.
Found forever in best friend’s eyes.
My sanity: cigarettes, sleep, your smile.
The pot roast ended us all.
Woke up screaming; missing my ukulele.
Hey bad ass Europeans: colonize this!
I kept my promise you slut.
His taste for sin had waned.
God got up and then left
Five bananas, two friends, many memories.
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