We are all falling,
Life is a drop towards ending,
You dear reader,
And I,
And we can no more delay or adjust the
Speed of our descent
Than flap our arms right now
And take flight towards the clouds,

And though we may aspire to the heavens
The only route out of life
Is down,
Drawn by that terrifying gravity
That draws us ever faster
As the years pass,
Accelerating steadily through childhood
Adolescence and young adulthood,

Streaking past the unknown
Mid point of our lives
But suddenly aware we have less to go
Than we can know and less to get
Than we already had,
And that as we hurtle out of middle age
Puts a scale to our brief existence,
And a reasonable sight of our end,

But these calculations are of no use,
As our muscles sag and our hair thins,
Skin wrinkled and transluscent,
Eyesight dimmed,
Because we are tripped
By illness or literally in a fall
And thus we reach beginning of the final bend,
Our flailing stops

As we reach our journey's end

He was the kind of man to catch your eye.
Maybe not at first.
The kind of beautiful that is skin deep.
His big heart which cared more than he let on.
His desire to put others first.
His fragile nature which he hid behind jokes.
His love which was like a kite.
He held on to the string afraid to let it fly.

She was a hurricane on a rainy night.
Blowing every which way looking for home.
She soon realised home was him.
His warm arms around her.
His soft kisses which turned hungry.
The way he touched her like he would burn up if he didnt.
Together, their song built to a crescendo.
Mystical music that played each night when they came to their special place.

He was afraid but he was solid.
His commitment was more than words.
More even than empty promises.
He showed up every night for months on end.
Waiting for the girl who had sadness in her eyes.
He instinctively knew that this girl would change his life.
He let her in a little at a time.
Sometimes a lot.

She longed for the nights when he would swoop in.
His need on his skin like a fitting shirt.
His attention a caress she would feel.
She yearned for the kisses that started an inferno and the touches like he couldnt get enough.
She wanted all of him; body, mind and soul.
Wanted to know him as intimately as she did herself.
She knew that losing him would wreck her.
But she dived in anyway.
A life without him was like living in black and white.
He was her greens and gold. Her coloured tapestry.
He would be her utter ruin but he was worth it.


He touched her and it made her feel more alive.
He painted stars in her skin
And wrote his name on her soul.
He showed her that sometimes going slow was ok.
Sometimes it was ok to hear the music in each other.
And he would always come back to her.
For that was their fate.

She danced into his arms and he waltzed into her heart.
Together, they fitted like a jigsaw.
They had a connection so bright.
One that couldn't be denied.
She became his queen, his every need.
She was addicted without a doubt.
Never had they felt something so real.
She whispered over and over,
Let me in. Trust in us.
She hoped one day he would let their love bloom.


He made her feel like she was a beacon.
The light that guided him home.
He was a moth drawn to her flame and told her he wasnt afraid to burn.
He just wanted to bask in her glow.
She was his inevitable girl.
The flame that made him feel all the things he never did before.
She completed him.

Stephan W

The sinking ship wasn't your life, my beautiful--
it was simply a series of messages, unfairly laid on you
so very long ago.. and in such a way
that they became a way of thinking;

    --and in and through them,   your mind..
      and also your life-view,  was formed.

And so, it wasn't one ship, whose porthole
you finally swam out of,   but many--
each time,  only after
  you had enough love  inside of you
  to be able to embrace the truth--
       ~that now told you that you had to exit the ship
       before it was going to take you down along with it~

It was love, that was able to show you
what was on the other side
and it was love that helped guide you to the surface
every  time you exited the ship
and each time you did, you developed a greater trusting
   of the process..

and each time you swam through the porthole
you looked that much more beautiful to me--

     Your beautiful face, glowing..
     Your gorgeous mouth, so willingly   pressed against mine
        so you could draw into your  own lungs
        the very air of mine that I breathed into you,
        as we both made our way up to the surface.

And slowly, in each ship that you exited,
your mind became more, and more renewed--
All the things that kept your mind and heart away from love
were the very things I would need you to
deal with before I could ever be with you

     or someone like you.

And so it was in my love for you
and desire for you to become whole..
and also, my deep contempt for the messages
that have been so unfairly laid on beautiful ones such as you
that have both  caused me to want to take the time  
to help you see..

That each ship who's furniture you were so tediously polishing
was in fact, sinking to the bottom of the sea..

But it was  you  that had to see it for yourself, Love--
in and through the view and understanding
that what you at one time found valuable and necessary
in its ability to keep you alive,
     now stood in the way of you taking in love--  
     the real thing.

So you see, love.. It couldn't have been just one ship..
but a whole series of ships--
and each one could only be exited once you had enough love inside..
and in truth, our bodies, (in their broken state of being) can only
take in as much love that the grace that we have been given
up to that point will allow..

Which is why the element of time is such an important thing,
and I consider it a great luxury that you and I were able
    to come back together
    time and time again--

               even when both of us thought every-thing was over.

I needed time to keep from continually throwing my phone(s) against the wall
(and out the window),
and you needed time to process what was coming towards you...
(and, also your anger at me)
     for pushing you too hard sometimes ..
     and other times being too harsh, or unfair..
     or from bringing too many of my own issues into the process.

But one thing for me I know for sure is true,
and that is every time you exited that porthole,
you became even more beautiful to me  than ever before
And, with-in the tenderness of your trust..
And the way you pressed your beautiful mouth to mine
as you took my air into your lungs.. as if your own..
     In the curve of your gorgeous hips, as your dress--
                                                          clingi­­ng to your skin..
in that warm, ocean water, as you slipped out of the portal
towards me and then up to the surface with me..
body, pressed against body..  as you took my air in

And the way that you learned along the way
to truly trust.. and take the risk to make your needs known:
   how to ask for help, now--
long before your heart, mind, soul  and that beautiful body
     went into despair--

That you would make your needs known to me
in the most beautiful of ways--
ways, which unknown to you,
     would draw me in-   towards  you
     in such a tremendously, deep way..


And so, you can see that our beautiful friendship was
doomed from the beginning--

   what has happened in my heart now,
              was inevitable,

       and is the outcome of your incredible response
       to all that has come towards you..
                                           from me.

when I hold
my own hands
My imagination does ensue
they arent burning
in the cold
and are somehow holding you

And when, away it is you slip, my hands hold tightly still onto
the belief you now know and understand- to me,
What these evil drugs did do.

And in death, maybe you'll
Feel what these constant aches
construe

when I'm holding my own hands,  
it's to pretend that one's s from you
and to comfort my sore soul as
As  life were still all
Sufferings through.

I understand the fragility of relationships.
Far more volatile than supernovas:
At the very least stars mature before their final flicker.
Relationships on the other hand can fade, or collapse at any moment.
For this reason alone I hold you like it’s the last time.
In truth, it might be.