“Are you plotting on me?”* She asked.
“Yes, I am.” He answered.
”What kind of conspiracy are you planning to do?” She asked.
“I am conspiring to abduct your heart from you.” He answered.
”But you already did.” She muttered.

I like to trace the lines
and the golden fine hair
right there in the dip
above her hips and her ****
like dust on a guitar
that needs playing.

Which is heavier, my body or this heart of mine?

The quantity of the heart is much harder to reassure.
Life is full of assumptions and depressing pressures.
Undecided but I’m riding the ocean waves.
Instinct is my driven force, wanting to be brave.

I walk in a road where the path has a dead glow.
I kiss the shadow of nothing, to endure - I stay low.
Obedient as I am, the ocean is my starting point, down below
       to where I creep and swim in slow-mo.

My feet had grown cold doing what he has been told.
The needy feeling had gone old.

I open my heart to go bold.
Just another piece of my life unfolds.

drawn to windows of silent blue
wooed by rays of genuine warmth
wavelengths of eternal promise
a clear gaze to tranquility

basking in a youthful sunlight
framed in crystalline emotion
purity of frozen concerns
azure passport to forever

trees reaching to one another
exposed in their frosted beauty
cornflower hues on snowy white
shadows of druid ritual

dreams arising from cups of tea
reflecting cerulean bliss
nourishment for ravenous hearts
fertile steeping for spring roses

Oh, come on you black-eyed
***** Night. Spite me
with sleep. Strike me, like
a cottonmouth. Sing me
your dark song, like a footfall 
in my hallway, like a night watch-
man dropping his lantern,
a last turn of the fan, a whisper
of a mystery, a kiss with wisteria
and moonshine on your breath.

Went their separate ways,
but hearts are lagging behind
a waltz filmed in black and white
silent screen flickers in their mind
the goodbye a freeze frame
of a desperate time.

Moved on with their lives,
but the dance doesn't feel right
jukebox earning its coin
throwing out a verse with an aching line.
Lost in rhythm they forgot to rhyme.
Can't hear the tune over the crying.

I miss the holy ghost of her smile.
The silhouette of her head in the night
on my pillow. Her beauty alight.
  
She was rain on my fever. Rain
through my window. An innuendo
of heavenly morning light. Heart heavy
as the moon on its way to Montana
  wearing my blue bandana.