you wouldn't believe the things i've seen.  well, it's not like i've been around
for a long time or something but

let me tell you, i couldn't even begin to tell you

so many connections
so many seemingly important
separate reflections

rises and falls

scratches down walls

psychotic
neurotic

world in revolve

and i sit in high chair
judging each one and all

destinies laid bare before me

but all that desists,
vivid images, wisps,
and one thing now
begs more
focus
and
attention, concern
than all the others

why is it that
i always
do this after
i *******?

librarian type
who feels with the mind

with a thirst for knowledge
her eye on pleasure
starved for romance
and desperate for depth

you never stop reading

your passion is your work
and you work with passion

you don't stop reading
but the void doesn't fill

but the day will come
for worse or better
that you find me

like a book long forgotten

riddled with dust that
covers the complexities
but familiar to the touch

my soul, my words bare
yearning for the feeling
of your fingers on the pages

heart in the abstract

waiting to be the warmth
that holds you
the voice that quiets the others

waiting to be dissected
and understood

i wait to be with you

the night sky
is showcasing

the best
****** shot

I've ever seen

the ship has sailed

it has been met
with unfavorable conditions

and it has sunk

scarred ruins scattered
about the floor of the ocean

wood & fabrics
fragile things
making a place
for scavengers to lay

and the world will keep turning

the waters will still completely

the oceans will evaporate

and an underwater grave
will be visible from space