613 200 Hours
25 550 Days
13 Cars
11 Jobs
9 Dogs
6 Surgeries
5 Children
4 Grandchildren
3 Marriages
2 Siblings
1 Weary soul.
No regrets.

Desire,
Twisting vines
Intertwined
In my mind

Bound,
Wrists writhing
Eyes sultry
Sweet smirking

Licked,
Navel to nose
Curled toes
Breath grows

Fantasies,
B-roll spinning
****** ensuing
A new beginning

I hear it as jazzing sound
And see it as a breathing sigh
The snowfall and its white feather down
Both light and bright as a once darkened sky

The distant stars drowned out by the day
An aesthetic row of these ancient books
To hide is not part of the mountains way
All it takes for this one is a look

And I am lost beyond horizons
More cold than hollowed ocean nooks
Just as the breeze brings gifts
And rgis wish by a field to sow

I hear and see all this alive
And about you I wish to know

That it was

Life is so meaningless
Damp and awkward
Effort so senseless
Disappointment like clockwork

I wonder when it was
That I lost my Grit
Why  all these pieces
That refuse to fit

Is it payback for Deeds
Gone unpunished
Slaughter and Theft
as I dug through the *******

You were made from light, in glory,
Not from Adam's rib, my dear,
Like in the fantastic story
That in churches we do hear.

You have always been appealing
From the moment you arose
Because Eve means life and feeling
And this everybody knows.

You're a pillar of creation,
All this world with you began,
And a goddess of salvation,
And the other half of man.

In your absence, man would suffer,
He would matter not at all,
Wouldn't sin and would be tougher,
But his soul would be so small...

Many of the chasms you created in my life are now too big for me to cross.

someday i’ll be too busy to notice the vampires
the sun wakes me up and i know who i am
maybe the chaos will always be there but
i’ll find a way to break it down into mulch and grow
pears and herbs and gardenias from what’s left of me
it takes a while to accept that the shadows matter
and i can’t pretend to know the watermelon lollipop
without the tongue that exists only to melt it away
to turn it into nothing until all that’s left is a paper stick
it might feel like freedom now but it can’t forever
i’ll pull down the curtains and never snooze an alarm again
the worst thing i can think of is writing the same poem
each day for the rest of my life and everyone knowing it
but me