Never again shall childhood fears rip
this sail asunder. Left to flail
white flagged, tatters licking
charred horizon dressed in
ashen shroud: heirloom
hung by our family crest.
I've steered this bow toward the sun,
away from your shrinking shore.
Paula Ray
Your words roll around my head
like a pinball racking up points
before I send them around again
loving the way they make me buzz
They have branded me
I want to speak them into your mouth
hear them echo and dance with your whispers
I want you to taste
how ripe I've become
basking in the sunshine of your words
Paula Ray