I can't help thinking you are the star

We are not birds but if we were, we would be ravens

Last night I got tired of writing poetry about you/I opened my window and threw the book into the sky/Watched it fly for a moment, as if it were intent on touching the thunderclouds, but then it fell - straight into the puddle of water outside on our neighbour's lawn/I tried not to think about how this was already another poem of yours/What I am trying to say is that, last night I got tired of writing poetry about you because it reminded me of you in ways my pictures of you do not/You are moving/You are smiling and then you are crying and at last we are in the sky/And I don't think any good thing is supposed to hurt that much/Or dedicate itself to touching lightning in the first place//

We are not birds but if we were, we would be ravens

Author's Note

Whew, what a week it's been. I apologize for my poor updating but I've just been so sick and preoccupied with life. There may or may not be a lot going on but I'm hanging in there!

This week's dedication goes to SundreaBailey again just because I didn't post for a week and she was like hello??? Is anyone there?? I appreciated the gentle nudge, ma'am. If you want a dedication all you have to do is vote and comment showing me some love! That's all it takes! See you next Wednesday, readers!