Immy

Among those mounds of cold barbed wire 
you seem much more at home.
Your heart belongs to thorns and briars
among those mounds of cold barbed wire.
And though you say you need to find her,
since we left her alone

“Don’t jump,” he said,
“From this height you will fly.”
But caring words are useless to the dead.
“(don’t) Jump” he said.
I guess those words had jumbled in my head.  
who knows what he had really meant, I

a black cat 
hidden
amidst piles of clothes
unnoticed
until tied up
under your feet

Late at night in the cover of darkness,
the young woman cries in her sleep.
She cries for the baby bird with the broken wings
who she buried early that morning.
She cries for her homeland,

deep gashes
carved 
into peeling bark.
words.
no.
letters.
a story?
of sorts.
or just
lines.
framed
by a heart.

lily pads floating in the streams

of my salty tears flowing

down my cheeks and into puddles

where frogs stretch their legs

and daisies start blooming

for your butterfly kisses

which dry up the brooks