From time to time you would mention
That I’d likely never meet your father.
I knew him well.
I woke up next to him
Every morning that I fell asleep next to you.

My ****** poems won’t pay the bills
Isn’t that the way you put it.
They might save my life.
But I’m sure you could put a price on that too.

Frigid feeling
Family facade
False embraces,
fair-weather friends love you
until they need to lift a finger.
I’ll leave the light on for myself.

I am not sure who first said
that the eyes are windows to the soul
but it must be true
because yours are every bit
as amber as your heart.
They are also every bit as tired.
Forever a mystery,
Greedy souls slinking in.
Sticky fingers
Leaving the best of us
Grasping for straws
Begging for thread.
Take it all
Leave a shell
Somehow they’re still good and well.