Sandals. No coat. Good hair.
Extra pep, in my step.
Is it spring?
Is that a thing?
Yep.

Increases to my daily dose of d,
Increases to my oxygen supply,
I am increasingly free.

Liberation is found in the tilt of my axis.

Pollen floats in the air.
My nose drips.
My eyes crust.
I don’t care.
A fine yellow layer like dust and
little pink petals coat cars.

No socks. Short skirts. Crisp shadows.
The benches and steps are full.
Pulled out of hibernation.

I am the sun dial,
Placing my feet,
Facing the glare.
I’ll stare,
into the sun,
squinting and squeeling.

And so we met spring,
In turbulent gusty rain,
Yet, this hummingbird.

Can't Sleep

I am full of conversation,
To be had,
Thought provocation,
Is not a fad,
I am wanting,
To go deep,
Thoughts are haunting,
I can't sleep.

Look me in the eye,
Dear Stranger on the street,
for in this passing moment,
our souls shall meet.

Know me,
and I will know you back.
We can dance in this city
we’ve painted black.

Hold my hand and
Let’s jump.
Trust becomes
the ultimate trump.

We’ll free fall together,
and improvise;
Ready to say yes,
and…
to the echoes of our outcries.

It is my hope to connect,
And treat your dreams with respect.

We give the shirt off our backs,
to the guy we just met:
humbly, with gratitude,
and without regret.

Sharing our souls,
with Strangers on the bus,
this is how I know,
this choice is a must.