crisscross

you watch me bathe in my own shameless self destruction, wilted guilt and tiresome apologies. 
“if only the blade you pierced me with would have been sharper” i say. “then i could be dead.” 

will you take my empty hands, 
lead me across the barren lands, 
as I stumble, blind?

will i wave my white flag,
plead lightly, let the words drag,
as your mercy is defined? 

Silhouettes of evergreen trees, 
I desire the lakeside wind
Instead of a delicate breeze
To run through my hair, unpinned.

I stare hungrily, eyes feast
On the lamplight mirrored.
Inky waters rolling east,

A tightly woven web, trapped my limbs as I writhed in agony.
The darkness surrounded me, my screams echoed on the barren land. 
Winter lasted too long, cruelly planting snowflakes in my eyes, to run down my cheeks. 

(an erasure poem) 
I call to the muses, for I have no words left. Silently I will respond to your beckons. 

Let me study your face, paint it in the sky. Every eyelash, every dimple.

Late April arrived with cool winds.
Your coy smile left me taunted.
Love’s religion, we write our own hymns. 
Every one of my dreams you haunted. 

Our fingers intertwined and palms met.