Spring Without You

Spring comes suddenly and sweetly,
like a smile thrown over your shoulder.
Spring is the clementine peels under your fingernails
the sticky kisses pressed against my cheek from popsicle lips
the tan lines I got from naps in the sun.
Spring is tangled hair that isn't worth brushing,
sand in the creases in my elbows, behind my knees, beneath my breasts.
Spring is shivering in shorts and tank tops
brought out in haste, to be squelched by Mother Nature's stormy countenance.
How can I describe spring without you?
Spring sans chocolate lipstick and somersaults in the grass,
Spring sans skinned knees and salty tears on going to sleep when the sun still shines.
Spring sans you is just warm weather and flowers in bloom.
Spring without you is just a season.


-The Shutter Muse (who misses her baby sister terribly)

Heart of the Forest

When you're at the heart of the forest, after it rains
a misty tongue licks across the trees.
Everything sparkles like spilt oil and fog hangs around the tree limbs

like cigarette smoke lingers about a beautiful woman.
Clinging to the aura of the storm,
reluctant to take in a breath of fresh air,
unwilling to release the heady sensation of holding your breath
until you're half way between this world
and the next.