The look of a perfectly fitted decorative apparel

 crisscrossing a 5X a week worked out sculpted body

keeps my beating heart in rhythm and purpose

My body and brain vibrates to color and symmetry

Fashion is my paintbrush to vanity, sanity and clarity

Color matching is an elixir for my anxious soul

Looking good feels good

Lifts my spirit

I enjoy making all things beautiful

a wall, a floor, a bathroom, a kitchen

If my home is tastefully decorated

the more relaxed I am in it

I imagine this makes me an artist

Isn’t this what an artist does

makes things around them

more aesthetically pleasing

My mom, was a fashion diva

Face made up

Hair finely coiffed

Clothes a recent trend

Body slim and trim

Of course not. And I don’t want food in my fridge, either. Or stars in my sky. Or purrs from my cat, or bucks in my bank. 

I don’t want cream in my coffee, sugar in my tea, or love on my lips. 

In fact, cancel the popcorn. Give me nachos instead.

Hold the cheese. 

I can make it through any sad movie, when your arm is there to shush my shaky legs, with its scent of aloe vera and love.

I paint my hair red
when I’m being redundant 
my hair brush is red.

Tides of history bring waves of change in single acts of defiants.

And on those long drives

Flying down the interstate

The sun setting before me

Hand out the window,

I’ll think of you

And I’ll let it soak in,

Before I let the wind

Carry you away,

Until next time

today I let my nose bleed

This was our park she  thought, this isn’t how it should be 

I wasn’t meant to call you every week,
but you promised to take me thrifting.

You weren’t meant to drive four hours each way to visit me
but you were invited to my bonfire.

We weren’t going to be in each other’s weddings
but we were supposed to share at least a few more triple dippers.

We weren’t meant to have forever,
but we were supposed to have one more summer.