pieces of you scatter
shower me
surround me
you've left me a puzzle of poetry
words in every corner of the room
left for me to put together
and my heart swells on its own
your essence clings to the sidewalks
which connect our neighborhoods
two planets with a city block between them
waltzing through space
spinning across the kitchen floor
and a kiss lands between them
orbiting like a satellite to its cosmic mother
no longer aimless
in a storm of starlight

in a sea of missed connections
dozens of footsteps
and swinging arms
and focused gazes
the air pushes aside
and even through the dusk of mild spring
the shape of a meet cute
revisited
some kind of quiet determination begins
untangling knots for more than just the sake of it
breathing in
always just a sound away
from such profound thoughts

a soft shirt hangs loosely from your soft back
uninhibited
your fingers, magnetic
become rooted to your instrument
and your body shades the music you create
like a tree leaning over a galaxy of moon-soaked water.
your breath is a metronome
that fills the tiny silences with life
and adds punctuation to the melodic sentences you speak.
with what is left of its windy consciousness,
my body absorbs the urgency of a dangerous crescendo
like a slow, sweeping wave pushing me under
a blanket of warm water.
Then your stoic face pulls me back in
and i feel safe under your focused serenity
with each whispering note that comes after,
breathing sleep back into my eyes.
and, again, i'm washed away
this time, to paradise.

knuckled extensions on the fingers of trees
rattle like rain sticks,
their crinkled counterparts scurry across the grass
disguising themselves as field mice
fleeing from the grey clouds.
warbling from the sparrows in the hall
distract me from the television of paned glass.
and meanwhile, back where focus should be solid,
language is used, and wasted, and lost.
understanding sits on a fine, fragile line
where you'd rather be sipping on the freedom of understanding
than feasting on that which is wisdom.
the trees understand that reaching is their only goal
and the dried leaves of yesterday know their role in reincarnation,
but each is also aware of the demise of the other.
and all the people in all the houses,
sheltered by the scabbed and scarred hands of their ancestors,
remain focused towards the scattered, schizophrenic bright light
of the screens in their living rooms
and are completely blinded.
be aware that your senses are the most holy of gifts.
while outside, the planet continues to breathe
and the trees keep reaching.

the alarm clock slaps cold confusion against
my chest
my teeth, they grind
and a flock of birds, in a chorus of flapping
and screeching, take flight in my stomach

the ground lurches under my sore feet
as they recall the miles of tread they've laid
these days
but each step will always be more misguided
than the last

and there's no fear on my face
only pure determination to make these miles
mean something
serenity and childlike curiosity, grounded
and naive

these strange paths carry me with cold force
for i have continued choosing to walk
amongst my demons
following that pale, bright ribbon of
passion and peace

my eyes are tired from watching the clock
my heart is weary of beating so hard against my ribcage every time i think you might be close by
your eyes, clear and pale,
search me with urgency
but all i see are two bottomless oceans
and the distance between them
i'm not strong enough to tread those waters
and yet i remain close by the window
wearily watching
tired and waiting

The birds cry out
for the clouds are stained with the orange glow
of the populations beyond
The dusk grows heavy
and the forest begins to move in on me
It slides in closer, leaning it's shadows over my head
In the pastures beyond, the horses search the dirt with strong lips
for that sweet green grass
But out there, the wind bites
Here the trees protect me and keep me warm
They hug me with wooden arms
and wrap blankets of leaves around my shoulders
And even though the darkness is thick and alive
i feel nature breathe and i feel safe