"I didn't mean to ignore you" she said both genuinely and proudly.

Dually proud.
One, for her ability to evoke emotion in him, through her simple act of nothing.
And two, that it had been so very 'nothing' to her, that she very genuinely didn't know she was doing this act of nothing.

Ignorance, ignoring...
What’s the difference?
She was innocent.

Regardless, she moved through the circumstance
Something like a maverick
Cunning her way in and out of his heart...

Stitching it up,
a poor repair,
one that was soon to rupture again
surely worse next time.

But the remedy consoled him
And imagining her essence
hazily around him,
he fell into a dreamy slumber...

Until the next time she awoke him
with her jolting and revolting
Chilling and thrilling
Weary, weary...

Nothing.

90 degrees
hot summer morning
8 am

same time every day
white shirt buttoned up
sweat insulating
his paper skin beneath

Hands firmly gripping the handles of his walker
with the same determination
that he has for life

not letting go

morning after morning
buttoning that shirt
tying those tarnished shoes

and down the hot and busy road
against the traffic and the rushing young
whose fleeting eyes somehow miss
this pure dart of life

Gaze fixed upon his target;
the next step.

He proceeds...

When we grow old
And our bones become brittle
The falls of our youth
With a proud smile
Of the strength we once endured

Rushing waters
Of trust

A blurred,
Deep gaze

The graze of a hand

A glance
A note
A smell
salty skin

Mornings-
Sun in the face
Yawns and touch

Holding tight
In the black of the night

Wishing for eternity
Then, wanting an end

And together was done
And tomorrow came
And we went on alone

And somehow survived
This bleak, white world
alone.

She sat
Cross legged
Somehow assuming
the shape
Of a taught
bow and arrow

Palms resting open
White and fleshy,
As leavened dough
Before her womb
One over the other
In a tender gesture
Ever so still

She breathed
In and out

And her lips
Came to a subtle smile

And she looked beautiful there
In that peaceful position

And in her top, left palm
Was a cherry
Black and ripe
Ripe enough
To emit an aroma
That would travel
All the way up
To her creamy face
As she breathed it in
And enjoyed.

Its inner beauty
Leaving its flesh,
To be consumed,
Engulfed,
In her delight.

While all the while
Her plump and tender hands
Cradled the fruit
In its full integrity

Consuming it completely
In peaceful pleasure
Receiving its life
Without taking
a drop of its juice

Perched there,
Upon a cushion
Serenely smiling
At the paradox
She contained

The fruit of life, giving
And she, receiving
Without taking
In return.

Looking back
I can see..
how deep
and how true,
my love was-
for you.

My heart beats slow
On this blue spring eve
Silence hums
As I continue on
This gentle, winding road