Monday, September 30th

• Pain flooded me
  like a tsunami,
  an injury of my own idiocy.
  
  You are the memories
  I'm letting go
  unloading the box
  from the top shelf.
  You no longer
  have a piece of me.

• Her smile was a working
  crescent moon, and the
  freckles that framed
  her upturned eyes
  were the stars of the
  vast galaxy of her face.
  
  With the glow of the
  television cast upon
  the contours of her face,
  she looked at me and laughed,
  a sound as bright as hope
  in the dark
  and twice as brilliant

• Burning embers
  of the sun's
  rays came down
  
  I ran and hid like
  a cockroach,
  fleeing the light.