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She cries tears of mother's ruin
"Look at me!
It's been so hard
All of my life
And I've had to fight
For my own patch of light
Still, no-one ever looks at me"

He turns his eyes to the floor
Saying nothing
Feeling stupid
And his words burst like bubbles in his mouth
He is desperate to say something
Anything to make her happy
But he cannot turn disappointment
Back into youthful optimism
Or bitterness back to hope
As she sinks into smeary sobs
Wet and bleary loss
He takes her home

He undresses her and puts her to bed
Then he holds her as she cries
And he holds her as she sleeps
He hushes her when she stirs
And calms her when she starts and cries out
When the dreams become too real
And he shall never be more than this
Never more fulfilled
Caring for her is his only purpose
Making her happy is his holy grail
Willingly trapped within her pain
He is nothing else at all

                               By Phil Roberts
A different kind of valentine
 Feb 2016 Hans Dytian
Dawn King
In September some years ago
I drove through Wyoming
Chasing the sun to California

I stopped over in Cheyenne
Breathing in her energies
The sign was 4 large crows

I had been there in oil painted
Dreams
With one uniquely like me
While the messengers arose

And in the winter time letters
As awareness to the soul ID
Ascends to its peak

From one time traveler
To another I wrote,
“And one day we will meet in Cheyenne”

— The End —