I would hope
that no one would read my mind
or hold on to a grudge
But what is left
not in final meaning
but in my explanation
of my open wounds
My heart floats
on ice
in hills
Basking on spreadsheets
And analysis
I am not wanted
Knowing that
Something
Ominous
Hangs  
above me,
and confides in me
I am unattached
Just like death  
Or when autumn
Dies quickly
Or your soul
stays around
Without warning
my hands held
to open skies
I turn and walk away
soaked in my own memory

Restlessly looking
Weakened muscles
Times turning
Actions subtle

Speak, I whisper
Mouth is hollow
Empty lips
Spit swallowed

Chained down
Heart stopped
Room bleak
Mind caught

I love you
Screams echo
Bounce off walls
Only inside
Tongue is tied
Knotted, well
The words hurt
As they swell

Again. I love you.

Again. Nothing.

Speak I demand!
I love you, whispered
Now!
I love you.
Outloud! Speak! Use your tongue!
I love you.
Tears stream down
Silence,
A terrible silence
Billows around

I love you

Unbroken silence,
Across the sky.

I love you.

E.S.

Our Sycamore is 90 years old, but comforts us
Dark shadows appear
In odd places
Winter lingers in
Unfinished space
Where the area is damp, glib
Raw and slippery
The dining room sits and waits
For someone
Walls are painted a different color
I am in the wrong place
I stand
Waiting for nothing
This house, too still
Quietly mourns the loss
I can't see the light
I can’t communicate
I can't walk on water
I can see but I can't feel
I lock the door behind me
And share nothing,
And wait here
in this dark shadow
Awkward and powerful.