she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.

If talk is cheap
what are thoughts worth?
Or feelings?

An attic filled with stuffy air
dim light leaking in
through dusty vents
filtered through cobwebs
and falling on
unused tennis rackets
and jogging shoes
self help books
wrapped in plastic.

Or a damp basement
foot thick concrete
old coal furnace
black shards stuck
in widening cracks
in crumbling walls
a single incandescent bulb
shines on an old album
photos of former lovers
pages stuck together
from being spit on.

I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Disappointment
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet

Your stripy jumper will have to do,
but please know my heart will be searching for you.
Out on her voyage through the hidden sea of stars.
I hope we cross paths and marry upon mars.