bled into
night turning
white billowy
clouds
into the powdered
and rouged
cheeks
of antiquated
ladies
the midnight
blue
of the
western sky
turned
a plum
purple
by the
orange
sunlight
as the sun
crested
the ridge
above my
house
petals of
sunflower
sunlight
streaked
the rooftops
making them
turn
to
gold

Where do
we pull
from when
inspiration
has left
on the last
bus
words come
but they’re
staggering
like a drunk
in mud
these words
burn
today
like hot
ingots
pulling
them
like bad
teeth

His skin
is the color
of nutmeg
and as soft
as cinnamon
his body
is short
and flexible
like a rubber
band
deep brown
eyes the color
of molasses
sit in pecan
shaped lids
his mouth
an oyster
opens slowly
his tongue
has its own
mind darts
into mine
drawing my
breath from me
or is it simply
the sound
of ecstacy

Morning
moved into
night like
hands of
lovers
under
a comforter
clouds
now meringue
hover
like large
hummingbirds
the blue
sky is streaked
with white
making the
sky marble
Diamond head
crouches
quietly
like a child
playing hide
and seek

The sun
stands high
in the sky
like a bright
magnifying
glass
heating
Honolulu
trees stand
below
me
like florets
of broccoli
birds
are quiet
now
dozing
and streaking
past my
window
so many
houses
spread
before
me like
high tide