My scars
are etched
by tears
like canyons
along my cheeks.

No.

When you need
me too hold you
I am there.

When you need
closeness because you're sad
I am there.

When you need
me to use your body
I am there.

When you need
time with me
I am there.

But the opposites
are never true
and the weight
of your one-sided calendar
is
crushing
and
depleting
me.

You move me
like music.

Your voice
sings to me.

Your skin
is a symphony.

Your smile?
An endless coda.

Your wet,
my hard.

A string of intertwining melodies
bound as one,
no interval.

An ostinato
that never leaves
the eternity of
your Springtime breeze.

And so I write here
so as not to disturb.
What can I say?
All I am is words.

I'll be

dreaming...

Salt...Sand...

Your brown skin
in the Sun.

You left me discarded
a dead leaf drying further
and went on your pursuit
of attention and power.

Not even the acorn
resplendent in its beauty
could pull you back
into orbit.

Well four decades
have taught me well
and I have pursued
you long enough.

I can father myself,
so *******.