I had a vision
Of crimson vines
And blackened sleeves,
And pastry palms
Holding strawberries.
If I turned my heart
Into a thinking head
With veins like waves,
Beat that drum green;
Maybe it behaves.
But I go invisible
Like a cloud in the night—
The moon a sorrow-shroud
For magicians and poets,
And starry lovers alike.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring 2026 Writing Contest.
I am thinner than I thought:
Though my scale says I'm not,
I can see the sour fruit I've caught.
In the spring, the flowers call
Like I could be King of them all,
Burning in the sun before the fall.
not a cola or a root beer;
something in between
like a tortured machine—
it will power down soon.
that tang on your tongue
is from my chewed up wires,
lightning should show through smoke
I'm sorry—
Sorry that I keep getting stuck in that well;
Sorry for always relying on your rope;
Sorry for putting all my guts on display;
Sorry for influencing you to decide like me;
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