I have spent much time
on daydreaming,
I forgot things
I should have written,
words I supposed to pen
in the blank space,
are now gone —
gone as the night sleeps.

Becoming unknown,
from those fantasies I built,
the heart speaks —
when lips unvoiced by guilt,
for those lovely words
were now forgotten by time,
forgotten by my mind,
forgotten by the night.

Hold on,
and hope for the best,
tomorrow will come.

I'll pray for you
beneath the moon,
and shed tears of moonlight
that reveal your truth.
I'll walk barefoot
across this shore,
collecting treasures
that remind me of you.
I'll pretend they wandered
from me to you,
like a message in a bottle
tossed out to sea.
I'll write you letters,
and burn them here,
setting you free
from my dark memory.
I'll let you go,
while walking barefoot,
but always thinking of you,
beneath the waning moon.

This desert
reminds me
of my heart.
It burns
hotter than hell
during the day,
before growing
colder than ice,
beneath
the moonlit night.

I'll cross the desert,
and climb the mountain top.
I'll sit up high,
and watch the sun
sink low in the sky.
I'll wait until dark,
when all is still,
when the moon is bright,
and shining full.
I'll write down a wish,
and burn it up,
then pray to the moon
to give me luck.
I'll coax her sweetly
to take my love,
to take it,
and give it right to you.

short moments
timelapses
blurred colours
and lines

feelings
just beyond
fingertips
tingling
along synapses

but amongst
all the uncertainty
the almosts and not quites

the smoky smell
of Russian Caravan Tea

and then there you are
laughing mouth open wide
cigarette in hand
grey ash on black clothes

and for a moment
it is as if you were never gone
never gone......away