Helga

I like to look at your photo on my phone as if I was Helga gazing at Arnold in her locket.

I too clutch it to my chest in an act of desperate, overwhelming desire, only to be felt in safe isolation.

I too acknowledge such power tainted with lament.

I too have a goofy haircut that never seems to bother you in the slightest.

Driftwood

I shall ebb so you can flow aside,

Wash it away like footprints with the tide,

Make this the twig that is never fetched by the dog from the sea,                                                    
Put him back on the leash and go home without me.