"do i ever even cross your mind?"

"you've never left."

Is he really
the same guy,
i fell in love with
that one December?

Is he the same guy
who made me laugh,
made me happy,
every single day?

The same guy
who stayed up
with me for hours,
watching movies,
listening to music,
and who played
me, the most
beautiful music
on his guitar.

Is he the same guy?
Because i don't see it.

He once called me
beautiful,
now he doesn't
call me
at all.

I believe that we could do it
If we really wanted to
I could really fall in love with you,
If I let myself.

And I bus home
On a rainy day
through the blurry embers of autumn
smeared on the Greyhound window
Remembering how she and I
Walked back after that movie
Our breath crystallizing in the wind
But barely breathing
Full of reverence
and sweet sisterhood
the cinnamon bun midnight
and soft whispers
of the life we used to have together.
Bury your sins beneath the heather
and hibernate in hypotensive hallucination
a final hallelujah
of appreciation
for the gifts that were ******
so prematurely in our arms
Straight from the oven
they burned our unprepared infantile hands
as we stood, indifferent to distant lands
and consumed by our own reality.
Well, we're grateful now.
Grateful in a way that destroys us a little
We both know we both know too much
to ever be completely okay
And who would ever want it any other way?
We smile through hard earned tears
and kiss the make-up off our years
And breathe the air of the country that gave us life
And we don't shy away from the things that make us hurt
And we thank the things that help us heal
And we know that home is never farther than a bus can carry us.

So I think we could do it,
If we really wanted to
I could really fall in love with you,
If I let myself

(Lord knows I need an adventure)

I've had enough, I'm done
Your standards are no fun

You're a broken wordsmith
Lost in a world of words
Searching for realization
While your story is unsung

Your screams from mountaintops
Heard only by cowards ears
Your brightest light
Can't catch my darkest hour

Good day to you sir
A forever blur*

*Joseph B Schneider

Life is an ocean,
Leading nowhere but to some vast horizon
No one can touch.
And all the while, we go through peaks and valleys...
But if we're really honest,
We are riding the valleys,
Waiting for that next cycle,
Waiting until the next great fall,
When we reach a valley again.

I do not claim to be God,
Although You Are my Goddess.
If I am not God,
Then why do my lips fit
perfectly on your
Shapely, tender lips?
If I Am Not God?
Then why, do my hands fit
perfectly on your
Shapely, warm body?
If I Am Not God?
Then why,
When I Rest my face,
on the soft, tender, warm,
Nook
of your neck,
I
Fit
Perfectly?

J. Eduardo Ramos©