Covers off and on
The heat of her December
Southern Discomfort

The view is still.

The mist appeals on the sea it seals

But down below I writhe

My howls they burn with vowels unheard.

You see a speck of flame

My inferno seeps, ten thousand leagues deep

There you wait for me

Upon the beach with a coaxing breeze

We may never meet

I never showed, the ocean froze.

Fell, he fell…
Swiftly and slowly.
Agonizingly slowly, painfully slowly.
Slowly in memory,
swiftly in time.
Swiftly. As in a meaningless opinion of a vastly overrated measurement of anything human.

We have not a word for a measurement that counts the value of a human experience.
How many decibels measured of a cry does not account to one an amount of sadness, joy, pain, anguish…
Percentages of love? Inappropriate.
If love is a journey, maybe miles?
And the direction… in.

He traveled so many, so carefully, so slowly, so deeply, and so meticulously, that one should not measure the time. An hour crawling in time, but crawling is slow and he fell very fast.  Impossibly fast.
Light speed through the viscous substantial experience without destroying it. Instead, caressing and memorizing…
Do not weigh or measure or count.
Only know it is so.

Did he fall, crawl or fly? Yes.

Je n'ai pas été créé par moi.
                                         Je suis votre erreur.
Nous reconnaissons vos péchés quand tu me regardes dans les yeux.
                                 Je suis ton mauvais tournant.

I used to think you were shy,
but now I know you’re just terrified
of every
*******
little
thing.

I used to think that you were strong,
And maybe a bit wise inside
But you’re
such
a ******
child.

You are not an enigma.
You are not a hero.
You are not a vision of hope.

You
Are
Just
A mirage.

And I…
I am here, avoiding my fault.

Your warm breath haunts my face.
Crazed with reminiscence, confronted with unending vacancy.
Claw at weary freckles.
My eyes create rivers over banks of soft warm memories.
Heart is restless, climbing up through the esophagus, making its way to you.
When I replay our time, at least one time, please don’t go.

If you were here now, what could I even say to you?
Would it be like when I pray to you?  
Will those expired limitations be renewed
or stay lost forever in your departure?
Would it make a difference when you went back to dust?
Would you suddenly know me now?
I don’t think I could.