“Coin”

quiet gold tucked between fingertips
turns and twists, before falling upward
through the air to land, crushing half
a world that could have been.

“Lavender”

scent sweeping outward
emblazoned by dimness

deep inward breaths breath
all the life out of this little cup
drawing souls of tiny purple plants
into my dragon-starved stomach
gold lined and treasure hungry.

steaming tea like smoke curls
upward past my flaring nostrils
and beast-like pointed teeth.

“Gather all the Failures”

In one swift movement
i’ll gather up all the failures
of mine and throw them away
to swim in lakes of fire
and trouble me no more.

I’d gather all the successes
and plant them on plinths
of solid gold and bring
all who cared to watch
and pray, but there are none.

At least, none worth talking about.