the stillness
of this innocent gloom

of the lanterns silently gazing at the open field, wet,
swaying
as the slow evening whispers, sighs
waiting for the sky to fall back into the sea

I'm sitting here
on the wet wooden stairway
and thinking of you

I tried to limit myself from moving about.
The more places I moved the more darkness I spread..
But I also noticed, the longer I stood in one area.
The darker it became.
I was a misunderstood shadow..
In a world made entirely of light...
I need to get back home..

I returned to the place I was before. It was easy to find as I tracked my dark steps back to the light door I came through.  Seemed every dark step was being analized by a light being.  All of them had an object I remember seeing right before I came here.  It was the same objects I saw the three figures take into the light door right before I went through.  The object then seem to absorb my dark step returning it back to its light state.  It soon got to a point where the light beings were following me with these dark absorbing objects.  I was like a moving car leaking oil. I know soon that I will be found.  I then heard thunder above.  A glowing light blue rain fell from the light clouds.  The raindrops that fell on me became dark drops as they ran along the light road.  My darkness was spreading! I need to get to cover!

I held his hand firmly on the fairground.

There were ferris wheel and rocking boat
even a flying saucer
of rides worth a few pennies

but the boy embracing that unlucky age
had his eyes stuck on the shining silver blue
beaming behind the sparking glass
full with rotor blades ready to take off
dreaming a ride to the sky
past the high tent of the circus
over the tallest coconut tree
into the haze of stars
where to only lonely pilots could fly
for being loved and understood
and not questioned for the cracked voice
for the thin hairlines on upper lip
for glancing at the girls
but inducted into the team of thirteen
for perpetually traversing between stars
on free rides into freedom
worth a lifetime.

i write my best poetry
about the collar of your shirt
the spaces between your fingertips
the warmth of your chest
the curve of your bottom lip
and the way that i have not
even experienced
any of them yet.

I have tasted
the nectar of love
that spills out of wildflower stems
and creeps out of caves into
light

It sleeps in every vein
I can track on my arm

It is sweet
like aging wine

Warm
like summer sunrise

Loose
like my father's chuckle
like the crescent
always dangling
on my mother's lips

But for the life of me
I can never hold it
long enough
to remember what it feels like