painted

she, the butterfly

i, the moth

yearning, to be painted


fear

scaling the edge

mountain of fear

never looking down


storm

she entered his eyes

through a ripping tide

and was lost

letting go

embracing the storm


angels (haiku)

upon the mountain

angels undulating

a burning bush


fringe

upon the fringe

like dusk,

your path,

soft,

ever fading


memories

memories flicker

in frames

of people

i’ve been


conflict

my body
my corpse
my mind
the conflict
of who i am