by Joel Groomer

I. Mirror

I smiled at my reflection,

but it didn't smile back.

It wasn't that I didn't open my mouth wide enough,

but that my lips were sealed too tightly.

The smile was on the outside

while the mirror reflected what was within.

II. Black

I lit a candle for you,

and one for the girl who died.

I know you loved her;

does that mean I can't love you now?

Praying to my goddess from the heart,

praying to my god from the mind,

I light a black candle

to briefly rid myself of the pain

so I can think clearly.

III. Confession

A few nights earlier

you confessed to me your attraction to boys—

your attraction to me.

My ears believed

but my heart did not,

until we spend the next day together.

I spent half the night only half asleep

breathing air that had already been warmed by your lungs,

and then I knew the truth behind your words,

and the fear behind the truth.

IV. Blue

I slip under my blankets,

confusing shivers of cold with the beginning of tears,

and an overactive imagination with an overpowering amount of fear.

My bed creaks when I move,

and so do I,

and a week of sleepless nights and tired days

leave us both aching,

as if we had lay in the wrong position too long.

Deep blue for sleep,

and lavender oil.

V. Yellow and Purple

I cry every day now,

mostly because I think you are

(or you can't).

I want you to know

that you don't have to leave me just because you're scared.

or because you think I don't understand.

I don't need to understand

in order to listen—

and I know that talking helps

(and that maybe I'm not the best person to talk to right now).

So yellow for communication,

and, once it's begun,

purple to help it grow.

May the words come out

and bring the pain with them,

and may incense smoke carry it away.

VI. Green

You say that time has consoled you—

that its hand has led you to relief.

But time alone cannot heal a wound so deeply inflicted.

Use green, then, for healing,

and a touch from my loving hand

on the chest,

where the heart meets the skin,

to rebuild and reopen

the spinning lotus flower.

VII. Red and Pink

I know there is love within me

screaming in frustration for lack of a path to reach you.

It comes out instead

in muffled words

and lost moments

and an insatiable itch in the back of my throat

that burns as long as I neglect to tell you how I feel.

So red for lust and passion,

and,

once that has brought us together

we can each light a pink

and cultivate love

between the power of twin flames.