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k Sep 2016
Is it possible to be jealous of the future?
Of the people you will meet
that will make your dimples grow deeper?
Of the places you will see without me,
the pieces of pizza you will eat?
Of the new shoes you will pick out
and the dinner party you wear them to?
Of the girl you meet there,
who's laugh you'll like so much
that you'll forget about mine?
Of the dinners you cook
and the hikes you go on.
The adventures you'll have,
the drives, the movies,
the nights spent asleep,
the kisses?
The kisses.
k Aug 2016
We got lost in conversation
about sports teams and politics,
the usual conversation,
lubricated by our spritzers and passing spliffs,
countless conversations
with your hand clasped on my thigh
and stolen smiles across the back porch

I sat back
laughing to myself about
the herb garden they've got growing
underneath those multicolored christmas lights,
tiny thyme leaves
I want to grind between my fingertips

And then we're leaving together
in your old Toyota that sometimes drives itself,
still caught up in our conversations
about politics and sports teams,
lubricated by those spritzers and passing spliffs,
that funny little herb garden,
those things who have given me
the most beautiful evening
of my life
k Mar 2016
I waste my time
with trivial things
trying to forget,
since I always do that

I floss my teeth
maybe twice,
Because my gums don't
remember if I have

Someone told me I looked
nice in the library today,
was I there?
I must have left my
books behind

And it seems I've burnt
the toast again,
I don't think I was
going to eat it

I sit on my bed
singing the words that
taste faintly familiar,
in and out of
dreams of
k Oct 2015
Being happy
brings unbearable sadness.
For it will never be with these people,
this person,
in this place, or with these things,
ever again.
They will all change,
and we will simply
cease to exist.
  Aug 2015 k
Tom Leveille
i always thought
you were thru traffic
that you were just jet lag
background noise
the kiss in the rain
i've never had
but what if you aren't?
what if this
was the thousandth time
i have loved you?
what if this is just a fresh coat of paint?
what if god
keeps a handkerchief
soaked in the day we met
next to his bed?
maybe theres a reason
i reach for no one in bed
the way i would
if someone used to be there
you know, they say
the road behind us
is littered with things
we couldn't hold onto
i wonder how many times
you've slipped through my hands
like hour glass sand
do you know
how much erosion you've caused?
i heard cupid
stopped keeping count
of how many times
we came together
just to come apart again
maybe it was just a rumor
it makes me think
about how many times
i've almost had you
like if all this talk
about history repeating itself
endlessly replaying is true
i wonder how many times
things have happened already
like the time
i tried talking you
into loving me back
back fired
or the time i could have sworn
jesus & lazarus were playing chess
with my heartbeat
but it was only you smiling
how many times
have i tried to tell you
how many times
have you read this poem
how many times
have i tried not to meet you
in my dreams anymore
it's like sleep tries to warn
me of what's happening
before it does but
i keep having this dream
where i tell you bedtime stories
and each one
is a different way you die
and in every one
i can never save you
it's like you're this song
i have on repeat
and every time it starts over
i forget the words
it's like you picked up the book entitled "us"
and the back cover
said you'd leave
so you never bothered reading it
tell me you aren't
going back in that bookstore
just to do it again
or will you tell me tomorrow?
or is this the time
you don't say anything at all?
if this has all happened before
if we call it quits
before we begin
from the beginning
i just want to ask you
to be my fire
because i am tired
of these old lives
and i'd like to see them
k Jul 2015
and though we
you haven't seen me naked
in a very
long time
k Mar 2015
Maybe I'll eat a sandwich
even after I know you've gone to sleep,
and maybe I'll keep buying you presents
everywhere that I ever visit,
maybe I'll pretend you keep giving me shot glasses
from each place that i know you've been,
maybe I'll think of you
each night before I can fall asleep
and maybe even then I'll see you in my dreams.
maybe I'll write stories of you
what we've done and what we could've done,
and maybe I'll write you letters
like I always have but never showed you,
maybe I'll smell you and hear you and taste you
in everything that I do.
maybe I'll find your old grey sweater
and smile at the things you always left behind,
maybe I'll fall asleep with my hand clasped in its other
since yours isn't here anymore,
maybe I'll hear the songs we loved to sing
even if I can't really hear them without you listening too.
maybe I'll taste that *** you always drank,
puckering perfect lips because it tastes
like ***** and good memories,
maybe I'll see 'your city' again
remembering what my first lobster tasted like,
and maybe I'll get a bruise and it will remind me
of how much messy fun I always had being around you.
maybe I'll fall in love again.
and maybe so will you.
maybe I'll be happy again.
and maybe so will you.
but I don't think
we ever will.
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