Palms of ocean blue
This sinking boat
Me and you
Hands tied to sheltered love
We float on our backs
Toward shallow waters
Dipping our toes
Into wet sand
Hanging our feet
Off the edge
Of these coastal cliffs
Reaching for the horizon
Tying together strings of current
That exists between
these distant conversations
a rush of turquoise
runs through our blood
cooling down the fire
that rages within
our anger subsides
and we start floating
toward togetherness

Water dripping down dark canals
I sit here expelling all the words soaked by my skin
Through the rainwater spout
Of this house I built
Foundations of fallen dreams
Rustle like newborn earthquakes under my feet


Something peculiar about these tainted windows
The goosebumps you left on me
The frame of this thesis that I have yet to write
About all the denial
and the six stages of grief that feast on my wrath


I am too far gone into the black
That I cannot forgive myself
For losing everything that made me
I threw our dreaming into the fire
and traded it for contentment


The pain of this aching desire
To become whole again
I threw it all into the fire
That burns this little house
And I carry the luggage
That you tied to my shoulders
with those arguments that sleep on my eyelids


somewhere I go, but nowhere creeps close
these maps are fading, and so are you
this exile is burning everything into ashes of tunnel vision
but what am I to do with these vestiges?
Seedlings of some light
The feeling of forest pine
The wandering scent of still fog


The petrichor under this damp earth
Calls my name and yours too
Should we just lay here on this black sand beach,
And build a new house from yesterday's dreams?

All I can think about
Are the things we would do
If I had moved the mountains
That buried you
I pieced you back together
With shrapnel from the glass
Stained with the pigment
From under my eyes  
Restless from this rustling wind
Anxious and bitter cold
I feel like the whistle
That rings in your ear
As you lay there
Under the weight
Of broken words  
Trying to forget the sunrise
That looms too close
With your sleep captive
In its marmalade palm

These years, they ask us questions
answers that tomorrow never knows,
held in the arms of yesterday.
The weight of this dreaming
pushes the clouds onto the ground
and our fleeting conversations
with this flooding rain
breaks the boats we built
that were already too unfit
for this ocean between the clocks we build
and the time we chase

Seconds go by in tender bliss
We smell roses and stain our hands with
crushed petals.
Declarations of life long rumination
live between the distance in our
exchanged affirmations.
Happiness opens its undisguised embrace
As the silence between our spoken words
fills the gaps of our stuttered promises.

Drifting deeper into this September dust
It’s been a thousand nights of wide open eyes
Waking up to sounds of December dreams
Your hands shaking in this frail wind
As you try to steady your heart beat
To match the stagnancy of these cold encounters
But the little things hurt too much
And the little thoughts dissolve into your atmosphere
Faster then the rain on your skin
Drifting deep into these November nights
A thousand days of rehearsing the right words to say
When all the words you knew too well are too big to house in these hours you dwell in
So you sink into this mud made of spring
Running from a winter that craves your honesty
Your reflections sit here in this fractured mirror
Waiting for you to break this inner silence

We run through golden drops of sunlight
with reminders tied around our wrists
memories in baskets of woven wind
Tomorrow chases us
as we chase yesterday
The synchronicity of our steps
becomes the rhythm of time
lost in the streets of reality
while navigating maps of wonder
our lives are repelling forces
that now face the immobility
of our desire for freedom
so what's left? Besides you
running toward this morning sky
and me, sinking in a shallow sea
of words and puzzles, that time built for
you and I