PoeticLetters

Periwinkles & Plaudits VIII: Transfiguration April 6, 2017 Beloved Amanecer, Every         v       y           a   e             l l                and miry \ p i t / you have trudged t/h/r/o/u/g/h; all experiences that marred your heart, each tear (un)shed are chisels shaping, unveiling the masterpiece in the making of your quintessence. This is the grand revelation of your transfiguration; you with the lapis lazuli soul, fire opal heart, and sapphire tears. Your longevous legacy, etched upon the hearts of generations to come.

i.     i... it isn’t in postcards or postage paid but in postman’s hands and envelopes that smell like rain you read words in an electric hum, a halo of candlelight and bulbs; light fits you like a chrysalis, weaving strands through the night like fingers, infant rays that never got to be the sun it’s raining, and there it is again: a scent that scarcely matters but still, strikes a chord; petrichor makes you think of boots sinking into earth footprints as wounds, rain as rivers abducted into the sky, cycles repeat, rain, recede, rain, repeat ii.     too the lifespan of a conversation language, fleeting, inescapa

your gods destroyed you, long before building you up, a danger and a grace, cut right through me, take your best shot, when your moments of inspiration disappears you strike, once, true and trusted (so don't look back, don't look, we're building something of these ashes and, unclear the concept, you deserve something solid, delightful, clear.)

Summer it is eleven forty one PM                 my words are tumbling                                          stumbling spilling over all incoherent                                                [oh, it’s been too long] Sungirl, I am fine. nothing more than bruised knees and bitten lips and salty cheeks,                    everything’s okay                                                                 [happiness and I are roommates] but there are breakdays when everything slips out of the compartments I stitch and lie strewn on the floor like no-one ever cared                    [oh but maybe they never did]    

Periwinkles & Plaudits VII: Metamorphosis September 28, 2016 Amada Amanecer, //please pardon this mess- you see, i grow busier and tireder my mind is restless and my heart is disquiet. my weary lungs are sick, there's a stubborn crackling that lingers. a t r o p h y; my soul is spent.// i. sunsets & meteor showers i will go on an expedition to collect all the bird bones i can find so that i can reconstruct them and encase them in glass bottles for you darling sunrise, i will save these "brittle bird bones" for you i will make them into glass ornaments so they might delight you ii. volcanoes and solar flares your brilliance mak

i. give me little, brittle bird bones before the storm of you blows them away- small hummingbirds through paper walls, tiny charmed lives on forest grounds lost at sea to drive in movies, late summers in the city, enclosed. ii. let me build a home- stitched together from the fragile lives left in your wake, forget-me-nots beneath the windows and lights that aren't quite right over the hills (there are many definitions of breathing underwater, breathing glass, breathing life into the dead how is it that you can define and do within a single gasp, and reassure with the next-) i cannot pin you down, such is the way with storms- they brew

Periwinkles & Plaudits VI: Cosmos July 21, 2016 dearest Bird Girl, thank you for your correspondence, what an honor it is to hear from you! please don't drift too far away, my dear Cloud- let my paper airplane affections be your anchor. if i may be so bold to say, with each interaction my heart grows ever fonder of you. (if i am "always the sweetest part of summer and the gold to someone's day," surely you are always the waltz in each winter and the diamonds of every day.) i will keep my hands opened for you and my arms outstretched to receive you i will cherish every whisper in my heart- embrace them tightly to my chest. (i will w

whirlwind: i never write back. (but i remember and regret while tracing the bottles on my shore, all open-mouthed emptiness, yearning for their unwritten letters. now they sing in the wind to mourn my voice and i want to send their song to you.) whirlwind: you are softer than desert suns or warring sandstorms, softer than most of your kind; face to face with the cliffs of my solitude you never ravage. dear whirlwind: you never ravage, and here are all the words you earned for it. from behind cliffs and walls and winter i write to you: of a forest that sings (louder than glass), of molten snow running in fresh rivers and flowers bursting

kind heart, thank you for sending goodwill and good wishes and words; they have reached me turned into clouds waltzing through late afternoon air carelessly, candidly, and sometimes now, they remind me: i am unbound like them and i dream until the world is so warm it melts into honey. (- a sweetness that i send back to you, hoping it may remind you: you are always the sweetest part of summer and the gold to someone's day.) open your hands and i will pour whispers into them of sun-flecked meadows, wings, the wind holding his hands open to embrace and a thousand other trinkets shaped like silence and feathers. (some of them might be ticke

Hello there lil dew drop, you feeling okay? Are you happy? I truly wish I could fill you to the brim with snowflakes and glitter, cookies and great weather, laughter and butterfly kisses. I wish I could make sure you are smiling everyday. I wish I could hug you, fly kites and have sleepovers with you. Don't you know you are beautiful? Don't you know you are a living, breathing, growing poetry? Don't you know you are kindness and grace and gifts and holy shit you are the definition of becoming. Please don't ever let go of yourself. Don't let your toes forget the feel of sandy beaches and fresh cut grass.  Don't let those pair of starl