Saturday, November 2, 2013

Little Birds

Little birds
tattooed on her skin,
seem to reach the sky
caressing the clouds beneath her breast.

And I failed to notice them
in the black of the night,
accidentally brushing them aside
as if to smother them beneath a blanket of selfishness.

But as the daybreaks
they again show their need to be set free.

Just as you did. Little birds.

Saturday, October 5, 2013


Shoved into their stereotype
to do the right thing
nothing dangerous, nor unpredictable
just follow father’s path,
listen to mother’s words
hearing what’s good for me—
to be the same, molded
to be good, to be better than you
to be right, and you wrong
in their eyes, not mine.