---A Grandmother was talking to her granddaughter one day and she said,

"All tears have a worldwide connection linking to the sorrows of the universe. Doves fly

out of macrocosm windows to carry our tears to the ocean. There are unseen forces that understand the catastrophes that happen.

The Universe has Helpers that hear the distressing waves. They come to us when the sun crawls out of the night and they comfort us.  They are Angels under the authority of the King of Kings and they obey.  We are not alone.

It is impossible for fate to ever close shop or leave destiny behind schedule. There are unfinished businesses that have "Help Wanted" sings on the windows. We will find our  assignments written on a daily time post. Every allotted 24-hours we are given carries the same message to us.

The message reads: Your assignment for today is to know that you are far more than a grain of sand. Keep a smile on your heart and believe that help will come.

But when red,

No longer wants blue,

And blue,

No longer red,

All purple can wonder...

Which part of its heart,

Is left wanted?

Lock lips with your adrenalin, you'll be

untouchable.

It crawls down your throat, finds home in your chest

and you can thrive off the chaos curling round your tongue.

I screamed at the stars until they shook,

watched them rain down around my head

and kicked them through dew-dropped grass.

Those bastards,

I'll never feel small no more.

You leaned to kiss me, but I remembered the poison drying on my lips,

So I pushed you away.

And you turned before I could explain, before I could wipe my mouth and cleanse myself.

You stared at me with a look deserving of pity.

And you walked away.

You reached for my hand, but I snatched it from you.

You thought it was out of hatred but you don't understand.

The thorns were growing under my nails and your palms are much to delicate to be scarred.

I only wanted to rip the thorns from myself,

But you walked away.

You tried so hard,

But I tried as well.

Finally you stopped reaching, stopped leaning.

But by then I was bare, pure, lonely, and stripped of my defenses.

I stood and waited for you to reach for me one more time so I could pull you into my heart,

But you never came.

The radio is playing

Songs I haven't heard since I last heard your voice

Striking chords in me I didn't even know I had

Choking on tears

Heartbeat.

What is this sound

Heartbeat.

It muffles my thoughts

Heartbeat.

I feel more real than I have in ages

More susceptible to what I know is only human

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Silence

Her voice cracks

Like a thousand ice tipped twigs

Laden words

Frosted with regret

And meaning

Too cold

To forget

and her eyes, all covered in glass.

she was like poetry in slow motion,

dancing wine-drunk in the rain,

and when she touched me,

i felt like someone else. not myself —

not city-boy, not nineteen.

we walked through a crowd

of strangers, crying

santiago, santiago —

her voice on my skin,

her hands turning my soul

like an hourglass. i cannot describe

how she unhinged my mouth,

how she strained my heart

through my teeth.

wild-eyed and half-asleep already,

still running through the streets;

driftwood fires on

blue-sand beaches, singing

santiago, santiago —

this romance a music box.

she was sun-soft, she had so much

heaviness in her smile;

and she kissed my past out

through my palms, whispering

santiago, santiago —

and these photo-frames,

these rose-petals.

smile, dear one.

catch

the snowflakes

on

your

tongue,

nose,

eyelashes,

hair.

catch

the sun

in

your

eyes,

smile,

face,

fingertips.

catch

not

the rain

in

your

heart,

spirit

soul,

mind--

catch it

in your

garden,

and

learn to

feed

the hungry

body

spirit

mind

heart

soul.

she

breathes

cotton seeds

and

blows

dandelion heads,

wishing

against

wish

that

they were

all stars.

she wishes

for stars,

for rain,

for peace,

but most of all,

she wishes for joy.