I put myself back in that place,
Beyond the veil of that fall-turning-to-winter night
Clentched together in the backseat of my Honda,
The air was foggy with anticipation
As the delicate murmurs of gentle songs
Hummed, and I breathed in the scent of your hair
As my nose rest against the top of your head,
And your eyes reflected off mine,
A halo of fractured light from
The street lamp outside
Graced the silhouette of your lullaby face,

A stern wind shook the car
But were forever still
In each other's arms,

Warmed by the years
We dreamed of
Together.

good piano music
lots of oatmeal

warm and good

eating lots of oatmeal
yum yum **** yea

oatmeal getting lower
bowl getting lighter

do you ever feel like a bowl of good oatmeal
running low on oatmeal

piano music dying
piano music sad

oatmeal almost gone now
reflect on good memories
of plentiful oatmeal

scraping for last pieces
music getting loud

ow it hurts my ear
**** where is all my oatmeal?

Why is it
That just as my skin begins
To feel the coddling warmth
Of the emerging spring sunshine
That I long for rain?

As a poet,
I am gifted with
The graceful knowing
That in the midst of something
Beautiful,
I am living inside
A poem being written.

I'll marry you
If not only to extend
The warm breezy peace
Akin to summer nights softly spoken,

Because I need to hold you closer
Than the sky holds the clouds
For a time longer
Than the moon has chased the sun.

When I'm with you
I forgot doing dishes
Is even a chore.

What a horrid thought
To think I may die unknown
Only to become recognized
Beyond the wistful will of death,
Not because I'd miss out
On the fame akin to fluorescent bulbs,
But because I'd be eternalized as
The straws of my words,
Not sun-gleam of my being.