my heart leaps as you sleep
the night's silence envelopes us
and we are left with the sound of
our hearts beating

you turn and move while you sleep
and I lie still on my back like a corpse
love fills both our hearts even in slumber
and all is right with the world in this single moment

I wish I could carry this love and warmth
out into the world of chaos and change
and maybe I can, because while my love sleeps
my heart awakens

You turn away from me sometimes in the night and cry silently into your pillow, not wanting to wake me. But I always wake when you weep like that, and I can see the outline of your slim ivory shoulders shaking with each stifled sob. Your dark hair cascading around you in a soft halo as some unspoken sadness carries you so far away from me, to places I can't follow. Once I would like to just cast aside the hesitation and enclose you in my arms as I do when we make love. But I know that I would be invading a private moment by doing so, would somehow hurt you more, even if I don't understand why. Is it some secret shame you carry within you that causes you so much pain? Something you think I would recoil from if I knew? I would not, I swear. I would kiss away your tears as I did that day I found you in the bathtub with a bottle of whiskey and handfuls of oxy. I pulled you up out of the cold water and you clutched me like a drowning person. I never told you that it was I who really was drowning before you found me and brought my dying heart back to life. It was that night that you baptized yourself in my bathtub which gave me the courage to really love again. I played Szerelem, Szerelem and you pulled me into the bed, just wanting me to hold you. It was you who were really holding me, though you didn't know it. And when we make love, your hands in my heart and myself moving within you, it is you who are pouring your strength into me. I know that we can't last like this though, with secrets and shadows between us. Whichever of us leaves first doesn't matter. Only that it was beautiful while it lasted.

ensconced within the window
induced by night’s flow
and a roof of lipful smile

a dream is buzzing
its contours luring

don’t **** it
don’t ****
forget the fright
the winter’s chill

there’s a crying
one more dying
in the squall
beyond my wall
in this dog December night

come my dreams in full streams
without a grudge
without a budge
erase from my head

there’s a dying out there
without a shade
neath the sky
in the coolest place to die

though my dreams are still bright
still young is the night
beyond my sight
happens the mayhem
witness starlight
in this dog December night

and I just aspire
a night of sleep
beside a fire.

Each one was elaborating
all about life at length;
in many words, all one heard
was just about themselves

I will
Write the best Love Poem ever...
Define love, finally...
In free verse or in rhyme...
Refine love from all emotions...
Divine love for the lacking...
Confine the what, where, how and who...

Will style and technique suffice?
Shall I
Write trochee when catching my breath,
Carve words in spondee for lasting ecstasy,
Pen dactyl tri-syllables for your hair,
Use iambics for your lips,
If my best is anapest,
I'll use it for your eyes.
I can beat out tetrameters, pentameters,
And go as far as hexameters?

When I'm finally finished
Struggling over the number of lines,
I may settle for,
Elegy or sonnet,
Ballad, lyric or ode.

My final line should read:
That's all you need to know.

When my day's drama
Is over,
I pull down blinds
As my closing curtain.
House lights flood
The frozen sky;
The moon spotlights
Nocturnals.
An analogue of sound begins
Its cacophonous chorus.
My ears *****
Cat-like
To the clicking metal stove;
Household motors
Hum in harmony.
My blankets shiver
Against the outside swirls.
The stairs, relieved of the day's weight,
Give rise,
And I imagine my ancient mother
Stepping lightly,
But not enough.
Hallway floorboards
Give her away;
Mouse-like hinges
Swing to a sliver of light
That lands on my lids,
The projection screen
Of memory
With the soundtrack,
*Lullaby of Night Sounds.

the way life used to be
isn't what i miss,
it's each individual moment-
lapsing over and over one another
creating an inconceivable picture
of everything i love,
now lost