I said," do you remember when we smelled the sweetest rain before it fell?"

You said, "you told me it smelled like a New England Forrest full of flowing creeks", while looking up at the sky, then turning to catch my eyes.

I said, " the smell transports me to my childhood, where life was merely a string of seconds that somehow knitted a web", while the rain we smelled began to fall

You said, as the days first raindrops spilled down your face and toward your lips, " it tastes like mothers milk"

I said, as I stared in your eyes " I love that we have language more than English. Your definitions are more vivid than most, and your imagery turns my mind towards more"

You said noting, but you smiled. And that was all I needed.

can  you see the depths within the shadows?
do you hear the whisper of the sunshine through the wind?
Are you engrossed enough with the abundantly surrounding green
to forget the grey and black that falls so in-between?

darling, please, remind me of the way in which yellow seems to spill
take me to the meadow where colors rest above the wild overgrowth
take us to where our eyes fall in favor with impressionists painters
put me in that plein-air canvas; just remember to be there too.

i can hear the deep and low thunder
from the train passing by
a few thousand feet away
but as I look around and recognize my setting
I realize it is thousands of miles away

that horn we heard will remain with me forever
only to reappear in reality and memory
both are unreal
but the horn I know well.
and the thunder I feel will stay forever

I made it home before the sunset
and I saw you sitting.
beyond beauty are the words that came
blonde and brilliant are the songs that sang.

I can't believe in chirps of birds
or the light on bark between the haze.
I can, however, believe in your loving grasp
and the way you speak in words unknown.

we've yet to pick a plot
where donkey's "hee-haw" and chickens "bok bagok",
and where the grass grows green and tall;
where kids may learn to walk.

you've not read these words
or known of their existence
but in time you will;
know my loving grasp

and words you knew to know.

ravenously crazy or stoicly crazy?
which do your prefer?
take your pick
because the answer is never wrong.

Sitting still in disbelief can lay
the world in colorful ash
which our eyes are not
meant to see.

yeah, i'm drinking you in.
the moonlit sky of nighttime gradation,
atmospheric blue to reflected white,
I can't help but remember our time
and that drive we took through the countryside.
memories replay inside my head
like a lonely cinema, screening avant-garde films,
but still the bills get paid, even when things are quiet.

I said I love you but my knowledge was elementary
i do love you still but only because no one loves me like you

yeah, we lived in sin.
lazy Sunday mornings were for laying skin-to-skin
with no intention of changing that fact
no desire to part carnal bliss
our rest was wicked and yet so vivid
our sweat was sweet and so humid
our days were bright and bountiful
but our appetites were different

there's a light that shone within the forest
and somehow between that light and the moon above

i entered a cinema, and i'm the only one.