I’m a friend of darkness
lock lips with it
in a lover’s embrace

I mourn the dawn
beg favors from the twilight
hold every hope
in my uncertain hand
for a day when the sun won’t shine

And I know
by my wayward feet
by the tremors in my hand
that darkness creeps silently
up to my borders
crosses every line
and will someday defeat
my meager defenses

I have prepared my retreat
a forced march
to the grey Pacific
where everything in my life
ends
and begins

The solemn swell of the waves
a fitting harmony
to that last sweet song.

Sweetheart, look to the mountains.
Their unwavering power. Their
Still, magnificent beauty.
Please climb them with me.

Sweetheart, look to the ocean.
It's vast mystery. The
Cleansing, crashing waves.
Please swim in them with me.

Sweetheart, look to the stars.
Their ancient compass, their
Never- ending hope.
Please dance under them with me.

Please say yes
Just this once.

just once.

once

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

I wanted to speak of the infinite
To chase the stars and lose
myself in the waves.
I wanted to scream of the unheard.
To challenge the unmoveable and
Rise through winds laced with flame.
I wanted to keep moving.
But you always preferred standing still.

Missing you
At the end of a day
in the space of a moment
in the breath of allay
in the wings of an angel
the space of a bar
music
transposed
from the heavens

my heart from afar

Don't ever get down at Remount Road
on the train's brief pause.

Once I couldn't resist
when through the window
I can't say what beckoned me.

The sky after a drizzle was awashed blue
and its miniature carvings on the puddles
sprung from my steps like thousand dreams.

There on the unshaded platform
were faces as puzzled as mine.

I didn't intend to detrain here, I spoke,
we didn't too, the voices echoed
but it felt so like the place
we wanted to be but missed.

Walk me barefoot on the sodden earth,
a girl offered her hand,
recount to me the unfinished stories,
make me a home.

I won't miss this time,
I was crying.

I have recounted the story to many
but they all have eyed me
like I am mad.

They only repeat there's no Remount Road
on this route.