Just meandering, dear.
A day in the life of a
Mere man. A can of grief in his hand.
Smoke clouds above billowing.
Hopes tapered down into small
Twigs by time.
And noticing,
The sun rises quite the same.
Just as bright from the east still.
Blue drapes still paint the beyond
As they have always.
And the black nights are still speckled in glitter.
Yet time itself seems to have gone racing right past our feeble slow
Old wrinkled perception.
And before you draw from the pipe it's tomorrow. Again.
Barely time left to remember.
To draw upon all you learned
Who you loved and those who are gone.
It's a bitter bright yellow sunrise today.
And it's all done gone in its glory
In my last
heartbeat.

Then I guessed right telling you
You could keep your hat on peeking
at you with that new found sexiness
A beret pulled down over your left eye
hands on your hips leaning left that right hip sharp as a knife
A sly smile the picture
Of total sexiness
On my king bed

seductive
A vision
You made me fall in love

for once I knew what it was all about
The release more than
Just *******
The talk the kissing the interest the contentment
The total need, the wanting to spend
Mornings naked cuddled in sheets
On the couch crying
Watching "Breakfast at Tiffany's"
Again.  Even "Forrest Gump"
Totally comfortable to let you see
Me vulnerable. More than naked.
See my soul.
I turned you on to grits.
Was happy to see you like your eggs
Sunny side up
And bacon crisp,
We are so much alike.

And that look in your eyes as I was pleasing you like a mirror
face to face connected in body in
Soul in space in time in eternity.

Nirvanna.
I now know what
Peace is.
Thank you my
Eternal.

Tame now, in the midst of
The forests limbs, strong bark arms
Brown like a farmers,
All round.

Lick my lips
Cradle my face
Gaze into my eyes
And tell me I'm safe

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.