M. Hank

Life is like the marshmallow in the s’more

First you have to take one out of the bag

Then stab it on a stick

If you do it wrong

The marshmallow drops into eager flames

You can start over

oh Icarus, you poor thing.
fell in love with the sun, the sky-
paid the price, i suppose.

why do we always pay the price for love?

Orpheus, lonesome poet, 
lost his love because he wanted to tell her they'd made it.

Soft sunlight

Warming our bodies

Cold from the long night

We stand up

Shaking the dew from the morning's melt off of our fur

We leap into the wildflowers

Running along the river,

If we got stuck 

In an elevator 

Would we have a real conversation 

For once? 

Could I make you laugh 

If we were in an elevator 

Would you trust 

It's quiet. Just the rumbling of the car. My friend is asleep next to me, their head on my shoulder. I open the windows. The breeze is nice and cool and rustles my hair. As soon as the window is open, it reveals the sound of crickets.

Hello Spring, 

I see you down the cobbled path; 

Your flowers lead the way, 

I run after you—two can play this game. 

Hello Spring, 

When it rains, I still chase you