This Is Not The Landmass

This is not the landmass
for which I seek

toss a coin
walk a thousand miles
bloody footprints in snow
scattered petals fluttered
balmy beaches glowing
man-o-war
descending rain of gold

Thunder follows
all I passed through
to find you

Love Poem

Waking up with feelings of dread
I wondered where I had left you
(and that old Cinderella watch, very pink, with very bouffant hair, I might add)

You once held my face
in your hands
My long hair a waterfall around us
where we climbed to your mountain home

Now I wonder if it isn't my hair, ultimately
that determines which road I travel

Robert Frost be damned.
I have misplaced my best barrettes,
hairpins scattered on a dusty palace floor,
the aroma of twenty-five pure flower and plant essences
never leave me