Walking down
These snow covered paths
Foot prints lead the way
Into the unknown
Were everyone goes
At least once a day

Our lives not mapped out
Although we wish they were
To live it up
I do concur
Is the best way.

I would trade your season for mine,
But winter is more comforting
Than the flowers of spring.

Harvest the snow,
And there you have luxury.
The white sand of my country,
And the pure radiance of yours.

On the strings
We have slithers of ice
And polished brass
Is the wind.

Hear the percussive surge of river
Or the silence seducing empty roads.

We have found our orchestra of frosty season.
Conducted by currents in the sky.

And now the vivid leaf of summer green,
Shall burst to flame of flashing fame.
Where reminded youth so sweet and keen,
Fade softly in the autumn’s name.

its been
moments since I thought about you
in any capacity
minutes since
I remembered some portion of our story
hours since I felt anger
days since I tried to pick up my phone
weeks since I last contacted you
months since we last touched.

its been

months since you crushed me
weeks since I put on the brave face
days since I longed for you
hours since I spoke of you
minutes of starring into a blank screen
silently pleading
moments before all this is behind me again.

It’ll be

Moments of weakness
when I think about “us”
Minutes of silent cursing
while you run through my mind
Hours of rationalizing
before I let it go
Days of depression

I know

Weeks of emotions crammed into a few minutes
Months of self doubt and insanity

Soon it’ll be

years

But I’ll always have


the



tears.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.