Sitting in the silence of my car
No moving,
Nor rushing,
Nor having places to be
I feel finally free
In the parking lot of PetCo I read poems
I ponder as people slip and slide
Into stores and cars and out of my life
They’re all rushing,
Full of movement,
Machines of motion and muscle
But in this moment the weight of their problems have lifted off my shoulders
I leave my body and lustfully linger in the stale air of solitude I’ve grown to admire
Trapped in its own world
As the passing are in theirs
I am the big open air
And the air behind doors
Of cars and of stores
Trapped or chosen
Inhaled and Ex
A calm culmination of momentary peace

I love it when

Your love hit me like 5 inches of snow in Mid May
For a moment it reminded me of Christmas
The warmth of Carols, coco, and cheer assaulted my senses
Distracted me from the dying Dalias and frostbitten tulips you slayed
And my heart,
freshly blossomed,
withered with them

Not expecting the bitter cold
But welcoming it without worry
It was numbingly nice
Nice but no more
In the end I lost limbs to it
My nose fell clean off
My heart stopped
…I always wanted someone to do that to me
…Stop my heart
Sweep me off my feet
I just didn’t know it hurt that much to have it done

Eat this poem
Savor its taste
Feel it on your tongue
Then swallow without chase

Take this poem in
Digest its every word
Take apart its meaning
Don’t let it curd

Absorb this poem whole
For it is as it is
Give it life
And meaning
Simply let it in

And then let this poem go
It may linger for a while
But let it flow like the river
Now, say your goodbyes

Dreaming of you is a gift in the night
I feel your touch again
And remember what has since been lost

The wrongs of the past are forgotten in there
When I hold your arm and call you mine

I look deep in your eyes
Hear your light airy laugh
Feel your hand in mine
Your warmth as we embrace
How your head fits in my shoulder
And your arm around my waste
How it feels to with you
And the warmth our spark kindles
…kindled

Sometimes I wish we could live in dreams
But what’s in our minds are a fantasy of light
A swirl of things we wish had been
A thing that never will be