I’ve kept plastic doubloons in my pocket since an Alabama boy pulled them from his rain-stained litter. The part I liked most about mardi gras was picking prizes from the pavement while he kicked moon pies into potholes. I hated my stay in Mobile, but I guess anything can be beautiful if you write it like a tragedy.

The sun having just left its peak, we lolled in the late August haze, golden light swimming on the adjacent sea Beads of sweat had settled on my forehead as we trudged down our typical root It had become a recurring affair, nearly everyday now The sign for no entry at the end of the road had tempted our defiance so we hopped the fence No shits given for the wire, its mangled snares snagging at the denim I wore in an attempt to impede our journey Your white Nikes, dirt-soiled and battered- cooler that way, I thought– were always 5 paces ahead of me I followed you down the path split by sea grass and beach-cactus knock-offs For a lifetime I had once walked it alone, hiding in the secluded site of no particular beauty- admiring the utter absence But today, we lit up together Your eyebrows furrowed over dark brew eyes, intently studying the green as you rolled it between your fingers Ritualistic, deliberate customs for forging the perfect burn Ash had fallen like satan's snowflakes to join the charred remnants of the relinquished campfire below I had walked to the water- trekking over drift wood and broken glass, my feet sinking into dwarfed valleys of sand I looked to the tide pool as it licked my boots, seeing the reflection of a cool jeweled sky and a face that wasn’t mine I saw her with devils eyes through a blackened fog It spilled from burnt lungs and through my parted lips but she didn’t need the smoke to breathe- not like me. I thought maybe it could be And in that girl I found a reason to change with the seasons

I listened to the doves fly around in the distance near the rising sun I saw the old trees stand tall against the windy breeze I thought to myself, life goes on, let’s move on I observed the warm grass welcome the falling leaves onto the ground I smelt the daisies bloom in the distance I thought to myself, life goes on, let’s move on I gazed at my grandpa helping the sun shine into the sparkling ocean I heard the waves peacefully crash onto the sand I thought to myself, life goes on, let’s move on I saw my grandpa paint the slay as it set while the moon arose I glimpsed at him shining through the twinkling stars And finally, I heard him say, “Life goes on, let’s move on”

Siri, you're there by my side when I awake Tethered to the wall by your nightly lifeline. Your skin shimmers in the dawn's glare, Smiling with a full green bar. You brighten at my touch, awaiting my whim As I scan your visage for the morn's tidings. I escort you down the hall to the washroom And pray that you sing your sweet songs, As I flush away the past day's filth, Amazed that your repertoire is without limit. Siri, you are always attired, Your sturdy jacket a constant bulwark Against any inadvertent clumsiness on my part. I, however, must now don the day's wear. I fear not a crack in my gentle face But seek armor against the biting Bay State chill. As I step into the wind, I nestle your dual voices Within my ears lest others hear you too, For your euphony should be mine alone. Strolling along Albany Road, I am drawn into the fantasies of likenesses Whom I have known and those whom I could never imagine. A screeching of tires whips me back to reality, As I narrowly evade a collision; Nevertheless, the scrolling persists. Arriving at last, I must turn to the day's tasks. I long for your voice and your companionship As I feel your slow, arrhythmic pulse in my pocket Yearning for my notice. It takes all my power to staunch my curiosity, To avert my hand and my gaze. Weary from toil, I find comfort in your steadfast presence. Suddenly, you buzz with excitement, Crying out for even more attention. Yet it is not you who wishes to speak but One who desires to speak through you. You overhear all I say, Whether I know it or not, Knowing me better than most. Sleep draws close. You caution that your energy is nearly depleted, Yet I cannot pull my eyes away. I beseech you for more, To immerse me in the sounds and sights of a different world, An escape from the drudgery of the day-to-day. You oblige at first and then issue one final warning. I keep you by my side in defiance. Your face withdraws into darkness Until you are connected once more To the fount of your spirit.

Most dreams don’t come true. A blessing, really. Often I find they are simply illogical random bizarre manifestations of the subconscious That have no bearing of reality Merely works of the brain as it sorts away memories collected in the waking day Those gossamer strands of time weaved into the elaborate web of the mind, making home among the ridges of sulci and fissures in the cortex At night I’m left to wander through the labyrinth of deep, tangled folds Nothing but a visitor of my own mind– A stranger lost in an unfamiliar world which they have created

She judged death as a despondent end of her own entity. Her soul flourished in distinction within her community. She watched everyone else be misplaced in name, So she vowed to always be a big star through fame. Her death was dreaded by a population. Her honor was only too good to be her true vocation. By chanting above the seas, and walking in endless pride, She knew it would be unreal for her to live off this ride. Just for a great glory she flew above the sky– She feared a life not so high would leave her blind in the eye. She wandered along the soil, desperate to keep her high nobility. A nomad for fame, she saw no need for humility. She knew one day cascades filled with the memoranda of her glory would be dispersed This would leave her alone, let her obscurity leave her at her forever worst. To not be the center of attention was to be strayed at sea. Her eternity would force her to remain under a palm tree. She feared this very day until it came. She predicted that her heart would be burnt by a searing flame. She can now only reach fame through her end, and she could never be at peace. She could only sit around until the day that she would be deceased. The death of her name, And her nonexistent fame, It all seemed to make her world collapse. But when she was able to pick up the scraps, She learned this: Life should always be a bliss. And the passing of a great King, Could lead a society to vociferously sing. So the end of her reputation was not a murder, But rather a cure to such a disorder. Her livelihood became free– And she felt that she could forever swim in the sea.

The things I wish I could tell you How I feel about you… My head rushes my legs shake You are always on my mind at the end of the tunnel of my thoughts I like you. My body is full of light when I'm around you The light consumes me I swear the world never felt so light so whole and abundantly good as it does when you look at me I never craved something more Than I crave the time we spend together I go out of my way to find you And everytime I do I find comfort I know you shouldn’t be a comfort But my wounds from the past make it hard for me To not find another like him You are my sun and I am trapped in your orbit Doomed to spin around you but never near For I am not your sun I am merely a star Something sparkly for you to look at Something you can watch from afar Not something you can love and hold near I feel your gaze follow me I find you in the most unexpected places I want to be your other half However there's a curse that keeps us apart Despite how I feel the gears click into place When I'm around you When we smile at each other It feels like the last piece of the puzzle being put into place My minds like a flower Blooming into a million shades of wonder and love My mind can feel you getting nervous And feel you close yourself off Because the closer you get the thorns that cover me remind you that I am off limits Pricking you everytime you open your mouth But I think my soul speaks the same language as yours does So I continue to hold you close to

I cannot move I cannot speak My mind stays a complete blank Not a single thought comes to mind No matter how hard I probe and pick at my brain a once vital organ now feels like a rock Laughing now feels like a chore All because you wiped away my spark as if it was dust on a countertop Or blew it out like flame to a candle Your selfish agenda leaves me yet again all alone.