there is joy in this:
that you woke up this morning;
there's breath in your lungs.

I wake up on my sofa after
Work, knowing she needs

Workman's hands to hold
Hammer and nail at

Points she's chosen for her
Pictures.

A stronger back for heavier
Things, but I'm spent. Work is

War, now. Power drill, pistol.
I bark orders at privates,

Not warnings at young, spiteful
Carpenters

Fresh from school
With too

Much product in their
Hair to want to wear their

Mandatory
Hard hats.

My heart skips beats when I
Lift. I count falling stars

At daytime climbing stairs.
Lie to concerned foremen.

A brain-soul-body Bermuda
Triangle of energies lost.

I have love to last her lifetimes,
Shoulders to rest her weary,

Closed eyes against or dig her
Fingernails into, gasping.

But for now, the ceiling I gaze
Up at stares back down judgingly,

Not recognizing this frowning
Ghost of the mud-covered grin I

Carried a few, short years ago.
The futile clawing and sliding of

A minuscule man climbing a
Colossal statue of himself.

1421

Such are the inlets of the mind—
His outlets—would you see
Ascend with me the eminence
Of immortality—

I've got the rip down just right
The soft tear, grated misnomer
Perforated here in my middle
Like I was meant to come apart
Out of view
Hot with friction
Hot with longing
Kinetic energy
Shredding
Dividing
The low sound of cutting construction paper
Thick with each blade passing
A sharp kiss
Maybe
Gripping like this
The right tool for suicide in the wrong hands
I have hands like those
******* I'm dissolving in a tear drop
It never left the eye
The sting feels like drowning
Waterless
and
in pieces

"For a moment,"
Said their lips,
Warm, but fleeting

"It's okay,"
Said the rain,
Falling again

"I missed you,"
Said your bed,
Empty and tired

"Not today,"
Said the night,
Long and dull

"Maybe next time,"
Said the morning,
Sleepy and still

"Just wait,"
Said the week,
Dragging on

"Just breathe,"
Said the sidewalk,
Every day

"You're fine,"
Said the wind,
Colder than them

"I need you,"
Said your heart,
Resigned and dry

"..."
Said your lips,
Silent.

He may not be near me
but I see him everyday:
stars in the night sky
grandpa's fidgety hands
quiet sun rays
It's been days since we spoke
but I hear him everyday:
rustling wind of crunchy leaves
our song on the radio
patters of excited child's feet
His hug has become a memory
but I feel him everyday:
refreshingly dark rainstorms
his smell, a scent worn by too few others
weak tea that kisses me awake in the morning-
   we both know
it should be him

I will not say to you
"In another life"
It should have been this one.

Sweet - scented hawthorn
Smothered in lively little bees
Earning their keep

One could sink in here
surrender to such vast space

melt inbetween billions of stars
get tickled by such inviting
eclectic twinkle,

learn to meditate
focus the fire inside you

dip in
get washed

dig in
  learn to gut every regret

season the forest
with shimmering needles
of Pine,

each one its own Sun
radiant enough for a galaxy of ants to bathe in.

Focus through,
  drive away from the busy highway
   of limiting thoughts where bent steel tries to tell you who you are.

Silence the unnecessary chatter,
  empty yourself,

for the Universe to shine through you like a river of starlight reaching
  to tell you,

the skin mask you wear is just a disguise for the infinity awaiting to
surprise you.