my love fits in
to the crook of my neck
and the palm of my hand
and the curve of my back

my love fits in
to all of my thoughts
and most of my words
and some of my days

and my love knows when
to hold me tight
and grasp me hard
and kiss me soft.

*(there is no point.
there is no punch.
there is just this.
there is just love)

Head over heart into some distant fading darkness,
being pulled back into an almost familiar abyss.
You lost me at the outset,
but now I'm finding myself in this.

Your intent is to drown me, I know it.
I've told you far too much.
Placed every key inside your outstretched hands,
and now you're breaking all the locks.

Did I mean to let you in?
Is it too late to bar admission?
Is it even possible to get you out now that you've gotten in without permission?

You're not welcome in this place:
Intruder. Alien. Imposition.
But I'm so glad you're here right now;
please save me from this prison.

Sometimes I think
Or feel
That this life is exactly like a dream
Like that dream that upon waking
Has you feeling mystified
With a dull aching inside
Still and small but vaster than the sum of all your parts
Left behind it closes when your eyes open
To be forgotten
When the new day's water comes rushing in

As if within your life
Is an endless spiral of other lives
Hidden so that you might feel
The culmination of their being
Leading up to you
Threading in the wakes of their rippling waves

Vanishing days
When you go down to leave your own
Ripples in the lake

if you say, "i'm right here."
when i tell you i miss you
one more time
i'm going to place my hand on your chest
just to see if your heart is still beating.

i bet twenty dollars that it's not.
i bet thirty that it is, just not for me.

if you say, "i know."
when i tell you i love you
one more time
i'm going to dust your heart for finger prints
to see if it's still mine.

i'll get a CAT-scan of your mind...
just to see if i'm still on it.

i'm tired of playing "go fish"
so i can guess what you're feeling
"got any love?"
because lately you won't show me your cards
but i'm pretty sure you still have my heart.

i look at your internet search history...
just to see if you're still looking for ways to make me smile.

there used to be something here,
alive and blooming and present;
it was beautiful.
the same way my mother's favorite vase was,
until it fell off the shelf and broke.

i check your mail box,
just to see if there are any love letters that you forgot to send.

there never are.