Without the gleam and glitter

No more saving face,

painting the eyeshadow glimmer like sunset.

I’ve had so many conversations with you

in my dreams that chatting now feels surreal,

catching up with an old friend from another world,

another life. We sculpt words into masterpieces,

puzzle pieces fitting into my gaps,

laughter sweeter than ocean breeze.

Drop the mask and make room on the couch

for two friends reuniting like waves hugging the coast,

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

refusing the pull back into the deep.

Sun slowly rises

I’ve scrutinized the stars,

measuring their gleam and glow,

when they flicker and when they remain,

searching for the brightest pearl

in the night’s tapestry. But when you walk in,

face and pride bare like a new page in my book,

I see more than stars. All that time wasted

on pinpoints when the sun was lifting her fiery head

—you blaze and burn up this close,

drowning out the stars in total splendor.

I’m in love with the very sun.

We race the clock for time.

I’ve never had more to say than hours.

The substance of the conversation rolls off my back now,

but the beams from the light last—

it’s been a long time, old friend.