I can't describe -
How the yearning hides.

How it waits
Until the dead of night,
To wear upon the mind.

the walls rattle
with my voice
as the walls fell
all around us

Here dead we lie
Because we did not choose
To live and shame the land
From which we sprung.

Life, to be sure,
Is nothing much to lose,
But young men think it is,
And we were young.

Dawn is breaking
and the symphony
is as silent
as our conversations.

The levee broke
just like our backs
when the world
came crashing
down around
our feet.

Today I watched my cigarette
as it shook between my fingers
as I drew one harsh inhale straight
from the the thing, and could not tell
whether it was for the force
of my breath or that my fingers
were trembling, and I laughed.

Sometimes I think that the wind
might tip me over, swift, with ease,
as my face vibrates, as I melt,
as my hollow space grows and complains.
When I look upon myself,
it is too comical in all;
I tremble as I laugh.

The heat of the desert

The steady beat of my heart.

stilled by the frigidness of your

breath.

Breath which never uttered

those forbidden words.

Words that sting like icicles,

Slicing through.

This exhalation which knocked

The fragile wind from my

Calloused chest,

inhaled again
and
took it back.

Now the desert sun beams strong

once more,

do my eyes elude me

Or are they flaccid?

Will the wind

come in whispers

and bring the numbness

of the cold back into my lungs?

I can only hope

And anticipate.

Please don’t make me wait

Forever