it's tedious work
to see all beauty swimming through your mind
and not being able to transform it
into a language that others can comprehend

it's a disastrous task
to have a staring contest
with an inanimate object
and lose every time
something like that--

i'm drawing a blank

when i get home
i spill my desires
all over my bedroom floor

and my walls are still drying
from the fresh coat of misery
that was applied the night before

and i should clean out my closet
but i'm worried that i'll be flooded
with the tears that are hiding there

and i'm scared to look under my bed
because i don't want to face
all of the abandoned dreams

so i push those feelings back
along with everything else
and sit in a corner alone with my thoughts
until 2 am
because i'll forget to look at the clock every couple of seconds
or hours
or forever

i just need to sleep on this head
full of forgotten strengths and ever-present sorrows
and hope that the stale morning will come
within the blink of an eye

and
like thick steam
my thoughts will dissipate into the cold, dry air
and become nothing but a homogeneous mixture
of nitrogen and oxygen

soon consumed
into my waiting lungs
too damaged by smoke
to know the difference between clean air
or anything else

Something happened this morning
when I awoke to you lightly breathing.
It was sublime.
My chin rested on your shoulder
the skin so soft on my cheek.
I couldn’t help but kiss the sweetness.

On nights when I sleep alone
it does not matter how many blankets
wrap my restless body.
I wake cold.
Nothing is as warm as your arms.
Like that of a Texas breeze
on an August night.

I can only think to kiss
your unshaven face.  
The kisses are planted gently,
first your cheek,
then your temple,
and your forehead,
when I come to the tip of your nose
you stir slightly,
but I cannot stop.
I want it more then
the ocean waves need
the shoreline to crash upon.

Looking at your face
I smile at the odd way we met.
With a breath of *** and an intoxicated
grin we spoke.
“I don’t like you”
“Yea? Well I don’t like you first!”
Like children picking
on their first crush.
Tying to fight back the giggles.
Our childish ways still
run strong.

In your absence I sit
and watch the ticking minutes
laugh at my uneasiness.
Hours with others
are mere minutes with you.
The clocks envy
our cherished time
and tick-tock more rapidly
when we are alone.
All our time
would never be
enough.

When we get lost in each other,
the way the lonely roadrunner
looses himself as he runs
up and down
the oak covered hills,
it is love at its best.

This morning
when the soft breathes
you took woke me
and my chin rested upon
your shoulder,
something happened.
As the kisses fell
and your eyes continued to sleep;
I realized that this
is where I belong.
Drifting slowly  
into love with you.