for god so loved the world
he gave his only sun

his clothes are wrinkled and he's just ordered a rose at ten percent off. you don't know the names of any other flowers, so you tell the old lady you'll take the same.

OLD SHOE

we’re different as left and right;
turning away when close, fitting
only upside-down,
but still walking side by side.

would you stop me
if i tied the last lace, stormed out
and slammed the door like a footstep?

sometimes i stumble ahead, scuffed
and frayed on the inside,
while you accuse me of splashing you
with speed, leaving you behind.