Today I am just a man,
In love with a girl.
She has eyes that glimmer,
Like emerald water.
And she smells sweet,
Like lemons and fruit.
She loves eating pomegranate seeds,
And talking about her favorite books
While sitting in the grass
That always leaves stains on her pants.
She knows me,
And keeps my secrets in her heart
Next to hers.
And deep down she does love me,
But not how I love her.
Dear Anthony Bourdain
somewhere between the time you died and the time you lived
i found a part of myself in the words you spoke
[This is a reposted edited version of a previous poem of mine.]
when all we have is spent–
what will we have left?
people once before us–
i walked down the street
the streets i once used to know
filled with regrets and heavy with burdens
of what once happened here
i walked down the street
a block or so down
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