'When you leave
don't hesitate
don't look at me
don't pretend to forget
something of yours, returning again
for just one last kiss
or the look in my face
that says I am okay, I will live

When you leave
there is no need to pack
all worth taking is mine
and I will need everything

you cannot
take a thing;
not the look in your eyes
before our first kiss
or the part of my soul
intact and inked
in the letters you wrote
that Sunday, last spring

I will fight to the death
to hold on to your gaze
at three o'clock in the morning
when you think that I sleep
and you quietly sing
sleep baby, sleep

I will keep every
word, every phrase
and, yes I will keep
every sound of exhaustion
when our bodies embrace
and the joy that it brings

You cannot retrieve
a caress from my skin
the light in your smile
dreams that we made or
the sound of your voice
when you promised to love me

When you leave
you will take just what's yours
an absolute me
my heart following'

How many times
would I return
in an attempt to be the storm
that claims your heart as an abode
on a day which no longer exists

How many
to create my earth
in subtle grooves upon your back
until the seeds of every kiss
begin to live, feeling your motive
and your warmth

How many
to reclaim the fruits
of tender mornings gone
contrary to the wind as whispers
from your lips

How many before the storm's
inevitable retreat
leaving only white flags
white flags in bloom
ceding to time
as scars
and beauty marks

And how many more
would I return
before the clouds break
in the sun

I do not know

Spirit Ghost**

I was listening to
Guns N Roses yesterday;
to Axl’s “Sweet Child O Mine”.
It’s funny cause
I always thought he was singing
“Oh oh, sweet Caroline”.
HA!
Ever have that
fantasy meets reality, or
is it reality’s fantasy feeling?
Can’t answer that one
and my guess is that
some mountains should never be climbed.
But Slash’s guitar riffs
pull me in and I start to sing,
“Oh hoh oh sweet child o mine”,
oh hoh oh sweet Caroline
as dark hair carries the wind
spiraling me into the fragrance
of moon soaked lavender,
lilies and a hint of wild sage.

“Where do we go now”?
I do not know
but there are Juniper trees on the horizon,
and dust mingles with sweat
as the sun rises to calm skies.
Walking this path
brings me face to face
with a dancing voice in the wind,
a ghost spirit seeing
present and past,
a sweet voice of healing, she sings
just when I needed it most.

I would love to dance you under the moon,
braid and feather your hair
in the old style of soft caring
and sing of the moon’s shadow
smiling in your eyes.
The music shifts,
moving more gently
into a song of renewal,
into the circle dance, into
“Ly-o lay Ale Loya”.
Come, dance,
circle, counter-circle;
let me show you the friendship,
the spirit in the ghost
you have shown me.

Aztec Warrior 1.22.16
I hope this small poem shows the respect and admiration
I have for a friend who has shown me her strength and
calmness and treated me as a human being.
She is a more than special.