words hung like horses

saved words burn holes in pockets.
spitting, flowers erupt on porcelain and
cracked pavement a reminder of summers
gone. tossing rocks in puddles to pass time,
watching waves made from flat stones that
bring bacteria home for supper.

its even sunny when it rains.
this island turnstile
where gray is the most vibrant and beautiful shade
in a place filled with lush greens
and the bows of rains end.

missing waiting wanting to be here and there,
then and now.
with a heart twice devoured i pray for you to
keep preying for me.