The Storm (for Natty Cayla)

Born older than your young years

Words formed like bubbles

Glass like, shattering grown up throat clearing silences

Four letter syllables, unprecedented quotes

“ Archaeologist”

“Antagonize”

A mind filled with water words from an unknown source

Light, pure water filled cavities of words.

The storm came to your world of words

 In a darkening moment, swarmed by other faces and their words

“Stop, naughty, mine, and mine”

The noises circled your head like a hurricane

Sweeping, drowning away all your beautiful tapestry sentences

Until you were left emptied out and silent

Unable to even spit out a three word call for rescue

“Take    me     home.”

Jewels

You loved shiny jewels as a child

Beads and bracelets, most of all rings

You bought them weekly with saved money

They are all you have left behind here

Ringing in my mind.

You wore them to cover scars

To cover self hatred

To cover lies,

To cover the past

Glittering, masking the unknown secrets

They are all you have left behind here

Ringing in my mind.

So, I write words to you there

To shine in your head,

To dance around your dark dreams

Like jewels, crystals of thoughts

Necklaces of prayers, beads of sounds

They are all I can leave behind here

Ringing in your mind.

Chambers

Not deep beneath the surface of the earth

holding gems the dwarfs  mine, treasures

but tall bookcases

and smells.

The smell of leather

older

the smell of deep carpet

the smell we attached to the watercooler and the plastic cups

the smell, of multicoloured Smarties in a wooden bowl

on his desk

the smell of porcelain dolls

neatly preserved with matching shoes and hats

taken out, cautiously,

scented with books and museum curate awe

on our long awaited Sunday visits.

to Pritchard Street.