On Hold by Nicole Barth [5/26/13]

Words drip down into my consciousness
like candle wax on an oak table.

Two in the morning,
persistent like the steady drumming in
 a summertime parade.

They celebrate an unknown destination
in the palms of a patient receiver.

Wait for me. 

Stars In My Pocket by Nicole Barth [5/26/13]

If I were to be stripped
bare
of all the things I've known,

Leave me
with clothes soaked
in the memory of a long hike,

A view of the horizon,
the kiss I stole from your lips,
and your gentle palm against mine.

Acrid by Nicole Barth [4/16/13]

Silence runs rampant in the playground of the night.

It stops and shudders, twitching so slightly
before changing course.

Its footsteps reverberate,
forever repeated by the earth on which it treads.
The shivering ground: blades of grass quiver.
The midnight wind is troubled.

Because in the end,
yes,
always the end,
Remember what is left unsaid.

Ask Me by Nicole Barth [4/16/13]

What scrawling do you hide?
A conflicted jigsaw of care and condescension.
An unpleasant sip of bitter tea.

But how could I turn away?
I'm lost in a smattering of broken intentions.

Stuttered retorts trapped at the gate of hesitation.
I hung from the lights of inverted cities.
Vestiges of the mess you made.

Patience by Nicole Barth [3/9/13]

She wore a dress with a sea glass back; hesitant breaths.
The haze of watercolor troubles
and the silence of an owl shaped lamp for company.

The rain's lyrics were lost.
She measured out her life in teaspoon quantities.
Every moment an isolated drop adding to the former and the former until
reaching the perfection of the whole.

What follows?

You and I by Nicole Barth [3/7/13]

The silk of your hair brushed the cotton pillow cover
as piano fingers met my trembling hands.
Lips halted by insecurities.
I felt your gaze in the darkness of a cluttered room.

Four in the morning;
the warmth of your embrace.

The ink of your words
wrote themselves into the layers of my skin.

Waiting for the final kiss that lets us sleep well.
We'll make our own path.
Form our own bliss.

Bliss by Nicole Barth [2/5/12]

You are my lullaby,
the intake of your breaths,
the hummingbird that nestled in my chest.

You are the 40 lights flickering in the middle of the night;
all the hope in a dream that may have perished.
All the reasons to linger a little longer.

You are the calm that blooms in cacophony.
I'll trace constellation in the freckles of your skin.