for

    once,

   i would

love

      to be

         the poem

and

     not

         the poet

There will come a time when the night air
won’t send chills down my spine
for it will no longer whisper your name.

I will stop telling stories about you,
for the moon has grown tired of hearing them
and weariness is an awful thing to feel.

The stars would appear
brighter than your eyes,
and I would hear lullabies again.

The winds would be warm,
the seas won’t crash waves,
and I will no longer drown.

I can drown
In your ocean blue eyes
I can put everything down
just to have you in my arms
I can lose myself
In the rhythm of your laugh

This sadness
does not define me

        \ \ \

but
    am I
       it's
           definition
                                ?

last time we embraced
you gave out those big bear hugs
could sure use one now
security I recall
kept for lonely times like this