i’ll always send you
the things i see that remind me of you

every poem i read
that i know you’ll love too.

every movie
that i think will sit you in the edge of your seat.

every book
that i think you will like, and that you will keep.

every song or lyric
that makes me think of you.

it will always be sent.
always be given- a gift, an offering too.

my way of saying
i love and am thinking if you always.

i can’t help that everything lovely i experience
is always infused with a little bit of you.

you used to say
that a glass of wine always makes things go down easier.

so when you left,
you gave me the bottle.

Not an ounce of anger
nor arden rage
which typically fill the pages.
There’s a subtle calm
causing such hesitation;
a sense of being stuck.
-Restless, drifting
in a sea of tranquility.

i grow weary of watching
the world sharpen it's teeth
with a rusty file
and trying to smile
at the same time.

who would want to measure
raindrops in a thunderstorm
when you could just feel them
hit your face?

exit stage left when you
want to stretch a minute
into infinity.

that advice came from a ghost
of a man and cost me a cigarette
and a can of Modelo.

worth is relative, i hear.