She takes her tea with milk

and eats Fruit Loops

every morning

Capable of love,

her muses are taking louder

at 4 am most mornings,

she draws flowers 

with a felt-tip pen,

drawing until the kids wake up;

she brews coffee for her hubby 

and pours more Fruit Loops

for her family,

dreaming of her gentle blooms

as she’s finishing up the accounts

at work. She wants to draw

over all the uncovered surfaces 

of her desk with lilies.

She cannot afford to plant

her own private garden.

A couple of mint plants

flourish in tiny pots

in her tiny Kew Gardens kitchen

making perfect tea

for every morning.      

Trying to quiet my mind,

but onions are frying in the kitchen

and he’s playing Ravel on the piano.

It sounds like water flowing—

I wish my thoughts 

can sometimes float on the water,

but they stomp around,

trying to dance like lilac elephants

in the jungle; Disney music scores 

and well-wishes can’t quiet these 

elephants down, they leave 

their huge prints behind.

Wherever they go, 

I can’t sleep;

others tend to creep 

along as if nothing has happened

& the water is in short supply 

as the onion smell and piano playing drone on—

Gone are thoughts of forgetfulness,

there’s nothing more, or less.

I stopped by that place

we met years ago for one night

I saw the steps and the cafe

we used to sit, passing the time

until sunrise. But today’s light 

made the sights look different.

Alone, I remember your warm hands

as I walked the cobbled streets

Your emotional marble in your head

was so big back then. What happened?

It’s now the Year of the Rat.

You got another woman pregnant 

and you must marry her, even though

she doesn’t make your soul sing.

The light has changed everything 

but I still feel the same, 

a star lost in orbit, searching for a harbor

even if love or the light disappears.