I hold a bottle to the sky
To toast to you
You’ve gone away
Not forever but maybe
Depending on what you believe

I’ll miss you dear
I’ll miss you forever
I’ll keep your picture in my rearview mirror
I’ll always remember you

Your smile left a print
I’ll miss it dear
It made me happy when I was sad
I’ll have to get used to that

The way your car smelled like cigarettes
It was the worst
But it was you
And I will miss it too

I’ll see you see you soon
It’s not goodbye
Or it is
Depending on what you believe

I’ll miss you dear
I’ll miss you forever
I’ll keep your picture in my rearview mirror
I’ll always remember you

Do you know Jesus?
Only He is trustable
His Love is greatest

I designed on a string from my ❤️ to yours
the twists and loops of yesterday
Celtic rings in tactile squares
a monochromatic dream sequence
in patchwork futures of sutured memories

large squares of Bay Bridge yesterdays
smaller ones on seagulls' wings
I'm still working on a future
every stitch in time lost and loved

it smells like me...

a gift to wrap the long and lonely nights in love
where months of me are woven into miles
that tether my ❤️ to yours

I'd hoped to be done by your birthday
it lies unfinished
a bin of fragmented dreams...
...maybe I'll finish by Christmas

just to feel close to the ghost of you

Dear diary;
I do not feel-
no, I do not feel anymore.
Sometimes I can feel my heartbeat,
or a lonely butterfly in this stomach
but that pales in comparison to
when I used to feel alive,
to feel any hope at all.

What was known yet unseen
was a king and a dying queen
holding their last kiss good bye
That day the kiss died

He then ordered all his men
to bind all lovers in his den  
Every embrace ever lied
The day the kiss died

The Judge and the Law
all came to find flaw
In any poet or guide
The day the kiss died

Finding two lovers, that spoke
of how his and her lips broke
Evidence, they could not hide
The day the kiss died

They cried,
“We hold and we touch
yet it’s not enough in as much
a kiss can’t be denied”
The day the kiss died

With a kiss hid in their heart
They tore them apart
and took them aside
The day the kiss died

Children chanted, “the kiss of death
will draw your last breath.
Don’t or dare to no longer abide”
The day the kiss died

And all the people they wept
and the sweepers that swept
the sad streets, they sighed
The day the kiss died

In lace they all dressed
in hope to lay the last kiss to rest
In a coffin to confide
The day the kiss died

That night,
Artists repainted the sky
Lanterns hung high
In the black rain they cried
The day the kiss died

While white doves bled red
It was heard and it was said
even the angels cried
The day the kiss died

The clowns in all places
Painted a frown on their faces
for all grooms and the brides
The day the kiss died

Old widows slept as it seems
waiting for their dreams
nuns by their side
The day the kiss died

The romantics broke doors
of bottle shops and liquor stores
yet the wine had all dried
The day the kiss died

Yet, still up north and down south
lovers, for love, open their mouth
welcoming death near and wide
The day the kiss died

Something stirring

A cautious hover
Over a breaking smile

gratitude spills
tumbling over the reverently held ether

life lives here,

moistened with
Blood, sweat, Tears and rain

Every fall a rise
Like the breath of providence

A dip left
A twist right

the rhythm of life inspires dance,
Poetry, art, music and song  

Like air slipping over chords

Sacred Verbiage

Vibration

Your hands are never empty

There is no void,

There is only the appearance of nothing

Which by the mere thought is even something

So grab on tight!

Even when it seems there is no thing

it really is something, isn't it?

Oh what we see, be and do when nothing is impossible!

Almost I found the courage
To tell you my regret
To tell you why
No one can ever touch me again

Would you hate me
For not telling you sooner
For being a coward
Despite having every opportunity possible

Would you hate the memories
As they all went skewed
Wondering if your lust
Was damaging instead of pleasing

Would you be mad at him
A boy who hurt me
That I have no contact with

I was almost brave
I almost formed the words
But when I tried to process it
I went back to that phone call
That cold, cold November
The request I made

I wished to make my abuser happy
Even at my own cost
How silly was I
How silly and young
Holding my life in my hands