An unconvincing smile
Let slip the obligatory lie;

Our hands limp at our sides
Rather than likewise occupied;

Ours lips retained run-down recollections
That our bodies begged to remember;

An inconvenient fork
Found us falling away;

My best friend since departed
While I was forced to stay.

It is a lonely thing
To start on down the street
When every sign or word said
I cannot read or speak;

The sinking sun there
Mixing high
Shades of dandelion,
Tangerine, and redeye;

And, that, last said,
When I amble home,
I pour over ice
And drink alone.

We partnered up

With our grandest fears,

Embraced

Our lonely thoughts,

We danced about

A cobwebbed room,

And never gained there

What we sought.

The depths of her eyes:

Vast as these summer skies;



Blue or grey,

Who can say?

She once

Shook me

With eyes

Beautiful as a storm,

Terrible and wild;

With eyes

Widened by innocence,

Tender as a child.

Not by the number of lines,

Not for any adequate rhyme,

Not by the amount of works read,

Simply by the life I've led.