Walked on the mud
Her reputation marred
Evading the bird

I take the last boat on the Icchhamati River.

the huddled shadows in the gloam
talk of home
a waiting bed
before climbs the moon overhead.

In little comforts voices bask
amid oars sloshing the night
and  I brood in silence
neath the  northern star

how far is home
how far?

She's late as usual
no I'm not ******

It would do no good . . . anyway
(inside I know I would wait an eternity)
. . . or more

Hey ! About done ?

. . . no response . . .
now you done it. . . she's mad now . . .
or just doesn't care . . .

I rustle some papers . . .
straighten up some pens

Oh ! I forgot , she's more the text type thing

fresh off her lips . . .
click , click , click . . .

So goes my mystic muse

Yellow , glowing
Softness , soothing
There . . . never a sound

Somewhere between
A cloud and ground
Between lips and thought

Somewhere , where there is a nowhere
Somehow when we don't know-how
Somewhat of an after thought

As silently as a whisper
From an owl
In the darkest reaches

Of loneliness hidden in the
Corners of sorrow
Hide tiny tears

Painful tears
Too small to see streaks
Upon those cheeks

The cloud is all fluff
Vapor and dust
Come cloud my memories away

Too much poetry
So many lines
A bunch of words
Too little time

Confused by the lies
She yells out only in writing
Pouring out her pain  
It rains storms and lightning

Cold showers for a dead flower
Hearts lost in this tug of war
She wants what she wants
So she gets what she gets

It all comes full circle
Remember this is a story of wits
Her poetry is deep
Defined by a lover

In a pool full of lnk
Squids blind each other
She finds discomfort in solitude
So she rooms his attitude

Lonely nights soon forgotten
Sublime to the stars
Its light ignited compassion
Redefined by her scars

I heard it all and read it all
She lives just across the hall
Red coated kisses
Caught him red handed

Where he falls on his knees
Every tear wasted
When yes slips from her lips
Yet another slit on her wrist

The towering love of a child
Ruined by mistreated wounds
Before it even reached the moon
Her power breached a tomb
  
Time is not treatment
It is cruelty
We get just enough to live
But not enough to learn

Sometimes
i feel it manifest.
a vice-like grip
across my chest,
as memories
of you possess
my peace and
cast me ******
on silent cries
of absent
breath.