from time to time, I still think of you.

how we used to get by...

how I fell beneath one-thousand shades;
sunrise orange, and dainty red.            
learning we were both
capable of the          
                         tilt,
                               turn,
                                       twist,
                                                 and
                                                             ­    verge.                           

I used to thank you
for spending the nights
in the living-room.
Instead of his room.

You would say,
"I like falling asleep with you,
but waking up next to him."

Yes, the bitterness is
mostly gone.
                                                           ­    
                                                            ­        
I still think of you
every now and then

The cool breezes stir
among the tallest fir trees...
dappled sunlight shines.
...

Her wink had
four thousand
different meanings.
But the 'interpreter
of winks' picked one
altogether different;
that  changed everything,
the course of history even.

In my heart,
a violent sea rages
full of tears and emotions
that threatens to consume me.
So fraught
that I will never be able
to reach the surface again
nor see the light of day.

But through the growing darkness,
a small pin of light glimmers
and slowly grows.
Obscured by the ashen rocks
and burnt-out tree stumps,
it slowly sheds light
on this forgotten wasteland of obsidian
that I call my own.

Even in this forsaken place,
there is an essence of serenity
- a ray of undying hope
that fills my thoughts
with the fond memories of you.
My soul is filled with anguish
and my bones crack and grind against each other
for the fear of never being able
to touch your face or hold
your hands in mine again.

I can neither let you go
nor let you fade away
into the mists of time.
So I choose to endure this torture
in hope that you will love me
in the way that I love you.
For that one chance,
I would gladly endure ten times this agony
to know what you feel.
So I wait,
in my darkened world of fading shadows
staring up at the small pin of light.
Waiting…
Waiting for morning
and the day.

today,
I awoke
as if we were
still the past.
constantly, and
ineffectually
hounding after
the future.
only to be forever
preserved in the present.
we are the
exact moment
when you have forgotten
a fading dream.
an entire world,
lost in your sleep.

I walk along the vaulting cliffs,
My mind is open, a clear horizon,
In passing breeze, I smell her hair,
I must get home, dark clouds arriving.

I watch close
The face of a sleeping dog,
Its eyes crescent moons
In those times blissful
When sleep runs it down
In respiteful shelter
From fleas
Hot concrete
And from men!

I wonder
What comes in its dreams,
A rusted bone
Loving eyes
Caressing hands
Or the pain
Suffered in the hands of men!

I felt it again today
the wind of you breathing
from the other side of town
the breeze elegantly lifted my hair
and gravity softly pulled it down

I stood with my arms forming a circle
with a candle between my hands
staring up at the moon
using it as a microphone
to speak to you

the stars lit up in patterns
that synced with your voice
a sight to be seen
a feeling to be enjoyed

I want nothing more
than to run my face
across the beautiful skin
on your ribcage
I want to hear your heart beat
because I know it beats along with my breathing
and when the night ends
we'll re-charge each others energy while we're sleeping

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.