I refuse to wipe the tears from my eyes
after crying for fifteen minutes straight,

letting the salt dissolve into my cheeks
as a reminder for the snow outside.

I think I could cry like this forever
and never lose my balance again;

it’s the greatest feeling in the world,
crying your soul out like this.

I’m sure outside my frosted window
I must look like a crazy person,

but that isn’t going to stop me
from doing it some more.

*Thank you …

The rain’s coming down in hot snowflakes
as I stand in the center with my arms spread,
and my tongue sticks out catching the flames.

My eyes close and I am there in your head;
we run through fields under cotton candy clouds,
projecting tranquil shade wherever we roam.

And the rain outside is making my hair wet
as I take a breath for you and then another,
just like I had in those days of yesteryears.

I breathe in this breeze known to me
and send this fresh wind back to you,
so that now you can share mutual air.

*Breathe …

You taught us human beings to sing
over puddles so beautiful,
and showed us lost souls
how to be whole
while the world
fell apart.

You introduced a drug,
purple and chimerical;
intoxicated my way
and saved the stars
before the sun rose.

An escape so rare
and Poetically inclined,
deep in your zone
where even the mosquitoes
hold no annoyance;
you’ve given me the moon
and pointed out
why we love it.

Now I return
the gift of escape
from darkness so bleak;
flip on the switch
so that you will wake.

The first time we talked
you were already dead.

The last time we talked
you were more alive than ever.

Now we talk today
and you’re sound asleep.

So when we talk tomorrow
you’ll be wide awake.

I swear you just winked
in your hospital bed
up in the moon’s eye,
where Poetry is dreamt,
like you’re having us all on
as you are wont to do
from time to time,
and all those other times
in between.

I return the wink
with the doc’s back
facing toward us
and we try to suppress
our giggles,
lest our cover be blown.

And once we are alone,
I bring out the wheelchair
and bribe our way
to an early checkout.

No one notices
because no one can,
as I push you out the doors
and into the backseat
of our getaway car,
climbing in beside you
and closing the door;
the car tearing off to raise hell,
with Nod behind the wheel,
the Narrator riding shotgun,
Tiny Dancer on the dashboard,
and a little piece of heaven
blaring out the speakers:

we’ve escaped.

I came across this house
with all four walls still intact,
in a lost town, a forgotten state,
in a country without conversation;

and I went inside.

It’s kind of silly,
but at first I had knocked.
I almost expected someone to answer.

But of course no one did;
no one ever does.

There was no food inside,
or anything else of use;
all scavenged long ago
by those most likely dead.

There was this marker;
black, permanent …
Sharpie …
a reminder of life
before it had ended.

I went to the cleanest wall
and etched my soul;
I wrote you a message
in case you ever stumbled upon
the same house.

It said
             I LOVE YOU
and I signed it
                              YOURS

At least I know,
if you never come here
someone else might;
they’ll find this message
and rediscover just a single grain

of
hope

that’d previously blown away
with the rest of the world.

Today I found a phone
half-buried in ashes.
I casually picked it up
and dialed your cell.

You answered on the first ring;
a faint wink from lady luck.
Your voice caressed my ears
and I burst out into tears.

I inquired about your day
and you told me all about it,
that you were on your way home,
and asked me to lay out hamburger.

I told you of course I would,
and that I couldn’t wait until
you pulled up in the drive;
I would kiss you forever.

I begged you to please hurry
and you reassured my worries;
you were just around the corner,
and soon we would be together.

I sobbed and told you I loved you
and you told me you loved me, too.
And I believed your every word,
even if the phone had no battery.