firelight flickers in her irises
as she takes another step away
from the candlelit corridors
she used to call home,
when she was comatose,
when she drifted
like ashes in the wind,
like dying sparks
floating dimly
in a darkening sea--
like he used to look
when he looked
at me.

Maybe it's been written
somewhere in the constitution
     of the waning moon

                                         ― When somebody loves you,
                                               you can never be lonely ―

But, appearances
  to the contrary,
the moon is sometimes blue;

counting stars alone
in a sky full of stars
is just about as lonely
as 'once in a blue moon'
                              can be ―

Like when the night is yours alone
                  or feeling alone
               in a crowded room

hearing Hank Williams moan within your silence
       "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"

                                         ― When it's hard to say
                                               you love someone,..
                                               but it's harder to say
                                               when you don't ―

                • • •

A coyote's pleading howl
breaks the silent twilight engulfing trance
cast by the dappled moonlight;
like there's some kind of lonely madness
    swallowing him whole,..

                     as
    these two hollow eyes
                 gaze out through
                                     the chilly,
                                            sobering
                                                 refreshed
                                                   Autumn air
                                                             ­    spilling
                                                                ­  in through
                                                            the open window,

                                                        ­           counting stars ― alone
                                                           ­             in a sky full of stars

                                                       ­             the crackle of the fireplace
                                                       ­            echoes, startling the silence
                                                         ­                of a feigned warmth
                                                                ­          from the other side
                                                                ­ of an otherwise hollow room

and i feel frayed as a hole in an empty pocket with nothing left to lose

the impending dark winter nights are lonesome
            and  linger longer than before ...
  
seeing the empty space beside me
   I remember how it really really aches to just be ...

                                                            *­lonesome as a blue moon ― *

✩                   ✩                        ✩                                       ­ 
                ✩                   ✩                    ✩                           
✩          ­                                                      ✩
         ­                                                                 ­                                 ☽

moonless ― rivers ... 2017

this is a reminder. sweet one,
your heart does not beat too loudly in your chest.
does not take up too much space,
does not mistake the moonlight for a streetlamp
when you hold your lover's hand
soft and intertwined
drunk and kissing your way home.
this is a reminder.
your heart is not a machine, is not
a second-class citizen, is not
the color of a bullet hole, a gunshot wound
against a rainbow flag;
this is a reminder. sweet one,
your heart is too big for your body
too tremendous to be
encapsulated within two arms and two legs and
ten fingers and ten toes and
when you kiss, sweet,
carry your hurt like the orange lillies
in front of my childhood home
planted by my mother and
the way she gave more
than she could give. give.
this is a reminder:
the only time
your heart should feel too loud in your chest
is when your fingers are finding her's
or his, or their's,
intoxicated by that moonlight,
a will to live against every clenched fist
finding harmony in disharmony
finding your way
to your orange lillies.

my heart flutters at
the way she speaks my name.
"lover", she hums,
and i watch speechless as woebegone
drips from her lips. she
tastes like moonlight
when she kisses me. fragile.
unknown. known.
when our bodies meet
i can't imagine living life any
differently than this;
magnetism draws me closer and
i am intoxicated and sobered and
and i let my fingers
trace symphonies over her skin
love songs and love letters
and the lust of
knowing that this is belonging.
we fold into each other
and it is inevitable. i want to
learn her, learn
every part of her, as if
it's what my soul was sent to do;
her heartbeat weaves a
gossamer of beauty and
she leaves it in the crease of my
neck. "lover".
lightworker. twinflame.
architect of this home, these
two arms that sing safety
into rose quartz bones.
this is harmony.
i release a held breath and
whisper back, "always".
this is my promise.

A metal frog swimming through the icy water
Words without a story
Something lighthearted
Cliché
A comet
Frank Sinatra in the background
Metaphysical relationships
Bouncing on a comet
A kettle steaming
Sarcastic bombs and sunsets
Sneaking off to drink
Future video games and bro love
Clerical errors and burnt memories
Funny people subtract lingerie
Maybe limbo
Sometimes tragedy.

Lucid dreamer, lucid dreamer,
What is it that you remember so fondly of?
Oh, blessed sleeper it is but a tragedy,
For memories are only tossed on to the wind,
Whisked away, to never be seen again
And words are sad goodbyes
The deep waves are washing over you,
You who can’t wake up!
So I’ll sit by you,
As we sink into the soft sand,
With its warm, glossy embrace
Safe and sound
And let deep eternity wash over us
Swept away by the swells and curves of the salty ocean
Someday, you’ll wake up
And we’ll laugh and smile together again
Carried away