After midnight, while the kettle whistles
The poems come
Like a draft through an old window
They seep through gaps of space and time
In my mind
No rest for the weary, why can't I unwind
They come like shattered memories
Though battered, my senses still sense
The sweet fragrance of my mother's body on her favorite quilt
Gentle evening kisses in Randy's car- call it "puppy love" but I still ain't over that shit
His lips pressed against mine, my thoughts still give me goose-bumps
Love lost, love gained and love forgotten
But love don't forget me
Are you cold? Did you feel that air?
Someone shut the window
don't let the warmth escape, in exchange for the evil zephyr
You can feel it under covers
That chill tickling your big toe
Its funny how playful the devil is
That unrelenting feeling of "Why did I do that last night?"
Innocence - not stolen but freely given away
And now I'm freezing because I no longer have a blanket
Exposed and bare
Nowhere to find refuge
As I pour the steaming water over the dark spearmint tea bag
I pray that love will pour over me
Add warmth to what can sometimes be nothing but dried remnants of things past
Restoring the elements and perfuming the surrounding environment
Until that day, the poems come
