at your most comfortable
was the most beautiful

sight these sore eyes ever
laid eyes on

and I carry that with me

I long to see
once again,
walls in rubble on the ground

unnecessary
as times wears all things down

skin showing
fears floating to the surface
up, up above dark depths
of things unknown

your hair, matted
but beautiful
a storm cloud,
a flash flood crashing
and flowing down your
collarbone &
across your breast

Motherearth even slows its
spin when hair hangs long

I've seen this begin
after so many ends

but black&blu;; eyes
droopy &sorrowful;
still twinkle as pretty
ghosts floats by

the perfume is permanent,
& as prevalent as the
cloud of smoke that follows
me as I go along

shaking arms will
will embrace
the emptiness,
when it comes home