Sunlight settles on the space you once filled,
I wait patiently for its warmth to spill.
A test of mettle sinks my soul a step too deep,
and I can't help to quell the emptiness
so I rinse and repeat.

we love.
and we love to be loved.
but let's not waste any time
figuring out which one we prefer

On a winter day I'm walking in the woods,
I'm walking with the trees;
their story-telling leaves beneath me.
How old, I often wonder,
Would one need to be
to read the dreams of trees?
Perhaps that's what we see
when we eventually leave
our livelihoods behind us,
and stumble in the woods
until our memories find us.

there's something in the distance
not so far that I can't see it
but too far gone for me to glimpse it.

the tides are tied tight to the boats that lie south of the ocean.
the fishermen wade through their wages made just that day.
the seagulls prove costly to all but themselves as they help it to them
till the end of the morning is done.

Conceal our secrets in realness...
and tell me then that you don't feel this.

I can't help but close my eyes
clench my lids so tight they
implode into my mind
just to see what's inside.