I can still
see the sun-
there are roses
in your mouth
that color the
grey corners
and drop petals
into my ears-
they whisper of love
and other
beautiful things,
so that I look
into the depths
to find
what I never knew existed
beneath the
flat stones of brown.
I can still remain dry-
beneath an umbrella of tears,
beneath a roof of sorrow,
when I feel the
touch of your warm hand-
kitten kisses on my palms,
a brush of your rough cheek
against my pale chest-
I have captured sorrow
in a blue vase,
I leave it on the shelf,
I leave it on its own now-
ready to walk away
and search for
new flowers,
maybe pink or lilac-
they bloom above
my fears.
