I loved, though not mine
That invisible notion that creates substance.
Saw as a pedestrian crossing the street; Watching

This love seemed theatrical
Standing still; Watching
The persona of something we knew not where we belonged
Searching

Perhaps I was lost. Standing there; Watching
To hear another speak
To watch as a pedestrian on the street

To pretend to be the smile that crossed her face
That industrial glow that colored her cheek
Tattooed sidewalks

The fast paced nature given; metropolis
Just seen walking around
Cars burrow deep into traffic; Watching

The capacity of taking delight in something so simple; Watching
Fickle
The grim street corner over by the third traffic light

Perhaps we stumble
Learning to walk; standing still
The clouds sympathetic in nature
Blurred the allure of the sun

I loved, though not mine
This notion becoming witness; Watching
This momentum walking fast pace; Watching

Slender shoulders cast angular shadows
Advancing up the grim street; Watching
Following the curve of concrete ladders

I loved, though not mine
The presence of strangers; Watching
A community of thought
Civilized in public

An unseen riot that wreaks carnage; walking
Her stare
That industrial glow
An invisible notion

Saw as a pedestrian crossing the street; Watching
Loitering
Stepping out into traffic
Getting hit by a parked car

Every song reminds me of you
A specific soundtrack of each time you've made me smile
The times we just laid and talked about nothing
separate lines of the phone
One side of the bed or the floor
Every song reminds me of you
I've listened to other genres only to find that the feeling still resonates
Wondering the what if of any moment
That sudden impact that strikes when the song breaks down
The need to hold on tighter
Wondering that If at any moment you'd actually pick up the phone and call
Pretending to ignore the melody that makes my head nod
The foot taps that echo hearts delight
The comfort of being at ease
My heart being heard through the speakers
Every song reminds me of you
Every chorus a simple reminder of the times shared between you and I
The melody my heart sings only around you
The addiction of throughly repeated songs
Fighting the urge to press the skip button knowing the next song only does the same thing
Bring back that irreplaceable ache that pains only to be near
The you tube of the minds eye, the Google play of the heart
Resonating each and every memory
Each and every time I fell deeper in love with a song that reminded me of you
Trying to replace that feeling of comfort that jolted soon as the song would start
Now days every song reminds me of you
Old new between
A different sample eclipsing times spent with you
Different artists, different melodies
They all remind me of you

Unapologetically, I eased into a deep sleep
Head leaned back against the head rest of an small plane.
Not a single thought occurred outside of certain excitement
The sight of ordinary things seen from a totally new perspective.
Carry on stored overhead

 

The opening of eyes, a brighter hue now taking to the horizon
Wandering across the sky.
I eased into a deep sleep anticipating a gush of wind sweeping through my hair
caressing my face between the turbulence of things imagined staring from a window seat.
Shutter half closed, first class flight.
The sun peaking through an opening of clouds venturing somewhere That I've never been.

 

I eased back into a deep sleep, watching the sun through closed eyes
Extra color seen through an already perfect jitter.
To overcome a fear of flying,
The anticipation of seeing the horizon from this side of the world,
Her world. An affair of perfect height
Unapologetically I woke up inbound, heading fast towards the landing strip.
Seat belt sign now a bright red. Blending perfectly into the view of the horizon.
Welcomed open armed to plight of her heart

Last night I had a dream
I dreamt that I set sail on an ocean that I couldn't tell where the sky began and it ended.
Everything was so dark; The sound of the water crashing against the hull.
Beading against the deck
I knew I was  no longer was in the same dream
Searching for the same light that lulled me to sleep
Soft shadows against the wall
Eyes now closed searching for that same light
Then it happened
I saw a light come out of seemingly nowhere
Spread wide growing narrow the closer I got
She was my light in the dark

I said to her
You know, you scare me
That in all seriousness
You may be that one girl whom pushes the one button no one has ever thought to look for

I'm not quite sure though
I mean the boss is around but no one thinks the possibility of saying
Hey what the hell does this button do.

Will anything happen at all

Will alarms go off, horns blaring
Arms tucked at our side running like hell
I mean if anything was to happen we could always blame it on the guy standing next to us
All in good fun,
I suppose persistence isn't the argument
A civil unrest that leads into the most random conversations
Appearing in the most oddest of places doing nothing
Riding the clock amazed at why we've never thought to do this before
The complacent thought

Not troubled by the thrill

a moth flies dangerously close to the flame

A constant change
The flame.

Existing in the real world
The trouble of time
To be honest life without you is simply boring
Wheres the thrill in anything
That chance in getting caught doing the one thing you truly want to do
The one track mind of micromanagement

The constant nag and *******
The leisure of it all
Without the need to look over our shoulder
Except sneaking over to the back office no one ever goes to

This is life with you

This is life without you as well

The last time they crossed paths
A peculiar question came about;
Hesitant the time it took for eyes to adjust to silence
Both intent with reply
Adjusting their posture
Breathing in a moment where they could just shut the **** up and be themselves.
The rare moments that literally scream,
No white out to blur the moment
No scratches from a pen to take away from the moment.
With the calendar of her days filled she marked tonight as joyous
A break from work an over exhausted day full of social texts
The riot of voices in her head
Having to fill the slack of that one chick whom called in today
It just felt good to take a break from everything
Relieved in the comfort of his presence
Highlighting tonight with an Orange highlighter
Not remembering the last time she's been so excited.
Time heals all wounds, clothes only conceal them until comfort flaunts about
The jitters of finding something you've always dreamt about,
Savoring each piece of tape, carefully unfolding each article of clothing like gift wrap
Treating tonight as Her birthday
Manic, the way they talked into the night
time slipping gently through their fingers
Arms reach of each other
The night not truly beginning until the blush of her skin
What is the true value of time
The murmur of a joke that only the silence around them understands
A language only bodies understood
Breathing but not understanding the gist of why each breath occurs
Exhaling to inhale the scent of each other
The closure felt from the last moment they saw each other
The closure of lips filled the gap between their bottom lip
The pain of lovers past uncovered, healed
He became the remedy of weary knees
Miles away from the reality of lonely bed sheets and the flicker of light from the television screen
Choosing to fall for imperfection instead of the perfection the world sought
But never knew

I've never been to grand central station, I've never been to New York In that manner
I feel as though I have
Each and every look in your eye
A waterfall of sight
A sense of holding on to something that I've never quite held on to.
Privileged
I felt invited
Nothing much to do
Sharing a plate of solemn stares
Neat folded napkins morsels of thought
Tasted; retasted
Ordered in haste
Perhaps it's the hope of holding on to something
A present wonder soon to become future past
No longer a reminder of empty hallways
A Lack of empathy now filled with each other's presence
Across a table three shades of red
Varnished in clear coat
Lamented with crumbs and coffee stains
Padded iron wrought seat
Neat tiled floor
The press of nicotine against scented lips
Listening to the way you talk
Winged heels
Exploring a Cathedral of thought beside a pillar of marriage proposals
Lovers running late, lost luggage.
The coming and passing of faces
The unraveling of plastic; the sound of smacking lips
And here we are with nothing better to do;
Watching life through another's eyes

Is this love that I feel
This need to have you near
This sensation that keeps you cradled.

 

The smell of brown sugar and pumpkin spice
Pieces of ourselves given in comfort;
The depth of ourselves inhaled deep
A sheer pleasure indulged stepping outside

 


Discovering a new branch of fear
[Should you leave]
If you ever
In The harsh wind of God's whisper
What of The memories left behind
Cinnamon brown, the wither of leaves soon to crumble
Never to glance back;

 

Turning to God for console
A renewed vision
At untimely end
Falling to what is left
My leaf
My desire
My branch
To pavement cold; bare

I had no idea I needed this
Diving in head first; washing upon the shore
Realizing that my heart was not my own.
Stranger things have happened
Reaching out, no longer complicating the accordance of simplicity;
The fear of swimming not truly knowing current
The tension of facing the unknown
Instead choosing to drown in widened explanation
Delicate notions residing in the eyes of a stranger whom feels they've known you forever
A perk of being rescued;
Frowned face in constant wonderment
The altitude of widespread comfort easing tense muscle movements
Crashing down losing consciousness.
Washing upon the shore
Realizing that in reality  we never sunk
Then again,
Stranger things have happened

Her heart was like a million tiny rubber bands
Bouncing from one direction to the next
A boomerang effect
Honest in truth
Memorizing the feeling of each echo
The pull and snap of elastic
Too often
She gave pieces of herself
In the end
To be the only one cleaning up

How clumsy of me;
to sit straight up with attentive ears
The vulnerably of giving what's missed
Mistaken as misplaced.
I liked this clumsy side of me
Lopsided stumbles, a bit more reckless
This constant fumble
Definitely generous; mistaking kindness as guilt
A sense of being misplaced
How clumsy of you to drop something so precious
When all along did you ever want it
That sudden pain that wraps around your chest; manic
A sudden throb that complicates the slightest of gesture
How clumsy of me to misplace everything where I thought I would find it
Again hoping sufficient in empathy
How clumsy of me

Rendered helpless
Searching for sincere apology
When in reality it was me

 

with unsteady tender

I want to consume you with my every breath
Replacing myself with you piece by piece
I consider it outrageous
The way you fill my lungs
The obvious determination of mind body and soul
Making yourself a side effect of my abuse
My self neglect
My bad habit
The obvious press of you against my lips
Civil, the way you present yourself
Engaged by the touch of lips
Engulfed in your total embrace
A mouthful of clarity sitting for seemingly a moment before losing all self control
Requesting that I do so again
And again
A pleasure shared between us both, loudly spoken.
It's almost impossible
Imaging myself lost in habit
Disclosing a part of myself not easily seen
Doing so
And choosing to do so again
Imposing a mentality that causes moral concern
If you should ever leave
Extinguishing the spark felt between wood and surface
A fearful behavior
The smothering of external emotion
Closing the gap between argument
Confiscating my words for silence
This urge of consolation
Where would I go
The aches and pain of woe
Positive in the way I held you
Listening to a library of thought
Admiring your gorgeous posture
Suggesting I embrace you again
And again
The fume of dysfunction never felt so beautiful
The beauty in self destruction for another
Craving a choice that was no longer mine

I was her beautiful monster
Sprung to life by the touch of her lips,
A kind face among the unkind
She saw what most consider frightening a calm Hush through the bellows of a lifeless throb.
I grew inspired by the touch of her hand; simple yet full of passion.
Over indulged I leaped to the  Resurrection of her grasp
Tedious without bound,
The broken spirit that I felt rush back into me.
To breathe again at steady pace
To afford every sight that felt my eyes
Lungs over joyed by the air entertained by her joyous smile
I grotesque in the reflection she considered beautiful shone off her eyes.
I doubted the heartbeat I once knew as still
It all seemed but a dream
The excess of believe
Cold skin, the feel of dirt and grime
I grew in debt; not truly knowing the cost
Reality, I was only a thought that roamed her mind
Forever more

I wrote a letter with an tremendous amount of emotion
Going back constituting the top of I's with little tiny hearts
Throughly proof reading the lighthearted gesture
Don't take to serious the tone I used
Consider it
A philosophy of the heart
It's intense ego
To get this point across
Though outrageously verbal
Choosing to live for now, contrasting to the future of reply
Tucked in an envelope
Optimistic in it's view of being open
A chronicle of sorts, envelope following envelope
An incarnation of my heart being sent in letter form
Count each word as a single throb of thought
practical words coming from a mouth that cannot speak
Only moral that I would send it's words in practical selfishness
This need wrote in ink
A sort of food that longs for the companionship of purpose
A need to speak and be heard
A need of touch, to feel this effort that somethings happening
An extension to the abstract heart that throbs in latitude
the height of it's dreams
So forth sealed in darkness
Awaiting the conference of your eye

Eyes lift
Controlling the heart's release of breath
The none constricting motion of the lungs
Emotion shown through listening ears
The heart now following what the eyes see
No longer a grunt made by tight motions
Seeing it's belief,
Straining the strange euphoria strung by tendons and muscles
The gift of giving one emotion to another
Nothing is as problematical as we present it
Unclear changes unselfish in the manner given
This sensation made in haste
To whom this particular change
This nursery of voice that calmly lulls the suggestion of peace
The suggestion of need
of consideration
The improvement of self in order to give
In order to love another as you love yourself
The existence of infatuation opinionated.
Still asking the enlightenment of eyes
The foresight of heart to give in the eye of love
The humble abode of running along without restraint
Free as breath
Feeling the state of complete togetherness
Eyes close
In the most relaxed state
Relaxed in the embrace of knowing
Feeling
Believing

I want a love of that seen on
TV shows and romantic comedies
Without the overdrawn scripts
Or interruption of subliminal commercials that go on and on
A love filled with the visit of random outburst
An award winning Assemble
Which displays overcoming harsh realities
Crazed neighbors that have no idea when to go home
barging in making themselves at home.
Morals and manner
The latter of spontaneity without control of volition
The latest trend of comebacks played prime time Every Thursday
Late night reruns that bring a smile to your face
Not just when there's nothing else on TV
I want a love of that seen on
TV shows and romantic comedies
Without the anxiety of overdrawn scripts

An emotional attachment premiered during every episode

The ego that accompanies relationships 

The ups and downs
Beautifully understanding,

Introducing ourselves to a deeper notion 
The beautiful curvature your mouth makes during improvised motion.
Typically I never found myself that goofy
Except when it's was funny

Identifying with whats felt inside
The serious situations that occur and end all in the same hour,
A simple template in the whelm of a moment

Cast with the kiss of the rolling credits
Best understood by the various themes played at the beginning and end,
Eliminating the distance of alone time spent while the cameras are off

We are but two ships
Passing each other by the window pane on separate decks
Searching for the ocean
Following it's current

The river
Unaware of liberation
All that it brings,
Heading in separate directions
The ocean
A total motion of embodiment
were we predominantly a reflection seen from someone else's eyes
sincere in depth
The weight of gravity

Coming to full circle
A skeleton of divine mystery
Putting on a different voice
Another tone all together
The influence of religion
Grounded by an unseen author
Whom draws the ocean
Whom draws the river

The biggest joke confronted by truth
Sooner or later they connect
Sooner or later the current becomes to strong

Now older

Bearded and gray

Staring into the horizon

Hard boiled sun smothered by the loathe of birds

Was this in fact a reliable paradise

Something to tend to

Something to care for

This body of water symbolizing longevity

A level of reflection

Realistically

Is paradise just a place we build in our minds to keep ourselves from reality

We were but strikes of lightening sealed in a glass jar
Flumbling about
Nowhere to go
Exhaushed, we conducted ourselves
With a slight curb of enthusiam
Sprung to life with the slightest touch
Electric current twirling forward, then back
Sparks igniting beneath our toes
Traces of where we've been crackled
Sizzled in a flash by the dark spot of glass
We were irresponsible in the abduance of each other
The glass soon stained by soot
Purified by the euphria of what came to be known as climatic
Every taste
Every passion
Soon expoliting what soon came to be known as each other
We polluted ourselves with each other
Becoming the overcast beneath the top of the sealed jar
Surrounded by absolute dark;
The way I saw the universe in her eyes
Laying beneath the night sky surrounded by acres of  thought
Vast in length
Breathless in thought
A jolt of vibration quivered in heart

This muscle which I speak
Often spoke but never emphasized
This muscle than often throbs
aches often
Impatiently selfish
Only thinking of itself
This steady throb
Aches on and on
Afraid to sleep in fear of missing the next moment
Realizing that reality is much better than the next
This muscle which I speak
Often spoke but never emphasized
A quiet calm that screams loudly
Unheard because of fear
Being seen as vivid
This bright color that laughs in color
Not afraid to be itself
This muscle which I speak.
Continuously patient
Waiting to be seen
Waiting to be heard
Waiting to be felt
This muscle which I speak
The presence of fascination
Otherwise near
Fast paced
Beating
This urgent vulnerability
Being needed
Being felt
From where does this muscle begin to beat it's fastest
The answer is quite simple
This muscle which I speak
Often spoke but never emphasized
Beats it's fastest around you

On the day I met you
I woke up to find it a dream
I saved all the best parts
Revealing that I still felt empty.
I was truly convinced without a shadow of a doubt
The silence of a single moment
Forever captured
Forever changed
Perhaps a slip of the unconscious tongue
The realization that there is no you
Force feeding habit
The weakness that ends after each hello
Pretending not to see reality for what it really is
For what purpose
The hug of dreams
Resonating what open eyes cannot see
Were you ever afraid
The surprise of disappointment
I fought to keep my eyes closed
Only for them to open

In addition;
The sails flapped loosely in the wind
Committed to providing it's best chance searching the sky
Things not seen below the patter of crashing waves.
Adjusting each sail
The ship rising and falling
The throb of an intrigued chest
No longer tied at Port
Anchorage at the sides
The sail snaps
Growing tighter by the moment
The breeze spraying ocean mist
Of wild waves
Untamed
Stomach stood still
The scrubbing sound of latches rattle against the pole
Paranoid that we could go overboard at any moment slicing through the rickety waves
Teddering left then right
Shaken backward and forward
Humbly seeking God's grace
Seeking strength in the midst of storm
Ranting at the sky in a boat so small
This war was you
This sea your heart
Faith to see a brighter day
Following a cracked compass

I don't want to drink again
No, not from those lips
That tiny bottle of pending doom with little tiny labels marked warning.
Under the table, grabbing walls
Compensation for the shot glass full of stained breath
There is no amount of emotional comfort that doesn't lead to physical contact.
My lips; your essence
There isn't a support group that can teach that
The urge to resist the glare of the bottle
Simple steps that lead to complete disaster
The calling of your name
The way you splash against my lips.
I don't want to drink again
My bad habit
My secret craving
A distinct hint that I need you again.
Where's pride in this infatuation
The need to have you again
This uncontrollable substance
Marked with warning labels
Bottled emotion that seeps at anytime.
The need of not caring who's around.
Again, pride where are you

And like that
I was strung out on every word she spoke
Overwhelmed by such sensation I didn't want to interrupt
I mean everyone has one greeting or another
But this
This was *** being passed from lip to lip
The tightening of eyebrows engaged in thought provoking euphoria
The tingling of ears
Rather difficult keeping the mind off anything other than.
But contrary to expression
I sat dumbfounded
The biggest knot on the log
Filling gaps of silence.
I practically grabbed the light from the ceiling and shone it on her
Inviting myself into every phrase every fragment that came out of her mouth
Anything to keep her talking.
The things that would come out of this woman's mouth
At that moment
I was convinced that I needed to pack a bag and move
Her whole face lit with such delight
Every wrinkle, every indentation
The only problem was finding the perfect spot to call home

In the book of her
There is a chapter often skipped.
Soft spoken, never read aloud.
In the book of her
This chapter is chaperone by guilt, regret
A wonderful chapter not easily accepted by those whom thumb straight to it
Often the chapter after is most fulfilling.
This unique chapter is what makes her well her
No fancy words, no editorial staff
Just the thoughts she keeps to herself.
The wonderful thoughts often seen as constellations that fill the night sky
A combustion of goofy laughs Noone hears and conversations amongst herself.
A priceless vocabulary of made up words and unused slogans
A chapter that keeps up with all of her cheat dates filled with loads of chocolate drenched with more chocolate.
The things that are all worthwhile as well as the things that make her feel insecure.
In the book of her
This is one of the best chapters
One hardly anyone stops to read

There sits an geisha along
The shore
When will love arrive; the ocean her tears have cried
Awaiting the sound of Orr like arms to paddle through
Melancholy puddle.
Her hair shimmers ebony
Awaiting a love that crosses the sea
Her Wooden sandels no longer echo above gravel and dirt
Awaiting their sound to be replaced. Repeated over and over
Laped by the lapel of rescuing arms.
There she sits alone by the shore
Seducing the tears she has made; praying a love fair and true
The koi of her dream refuses to swim
Alone she waits by an ocean she's made

I've fallen into the abyss; fingers toes nothing to grasp.
I've fallen into the insanity of your heart
With constant spinning of constant darkness.
Instantaneously forgetting what it's like to stand on solid ground

And when she cut the radio on
Everything became so clear
I never heard the words to my favorite song; I listened intently.
Not only capturing the words
But this very moment.
Every expression
The amount of thought put into this exchanged gesture.
What was this
It wasn't rock, it wasn't pop
It's wasn't the mellow tone of rhythm and blues
What was this
This explosion that occurred with the next look of her eyes
Like psychedelic euphoria
Oozing from our lips
Erratic heart throbs pulsating through the air waves
Connecting us,
No matter how far we were

I had an inability to understand the effect she had on me,
A drug that revealed every high without the lows that accompanied.
At least until later
The emotional distance that kept me wondering if in fact that what I felt was real.
The quiver of her skin on my lips
The need to be pulled tighter
The inherit lows that came about seemingly out of  nowhere.
Just as her blaze went out
Brimming around tight pressed thumb and pointer
The extinguished paper left behind
Discarded
Which one was me,
Which was her

Perhaps she never loved me for me,
Perhaps she loved the song that I sung that reminded her of another; long sense gone.
I always sound the most infectious when I sound like someone else
Then perhaps too; she never saw me for me

To lie for me was some what of a big deal
To lie for me was mundane in the existence of truth.
More of an prediction of the next thought or action
From one moment to the next as it's quite hard to say whats done
relying on reaction alone.
So unlike myself, a rare moment of potential
Behind the rotation of lips spinning on the axis of conversation
In all honesty
The forgetting of names, unintentional speaking.
What led to this quantum of unparallel thinking
This constant spinning of transcendence.
Earth
The raising and falling of the sun
You never say hey or look my way
but insist to make up for the moments missed in the abundance of choice
Precisely the point of rockets
Blasting off
Casting sheet metal and other casings into the atmosphere
before it's destination.
The missing pieces found, later researched to be placed in some big
museum sooner or later.
When does our leap year begin, has it passed
The gravity of thought preceding before step
To me the truth was that much appealing
Removing the dark side that covered the moon
The detail presented in an telescopic view missed by most.
Turning the calendar
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't
waiting for the next leap year to occur

Her love was rebellious,
Perfectly Defiant to man made testimony
Testimonies sent fluttering page after page handwritten by scholars without imagination.
Her love was rebellious
A pen waiting to be relived of its ink.
A stamp of emotion
Which leaves uncertain marks
Semi colons and closed parentheses.
The face of man left across
blue lines of paper.
Would she circumvent.
The page left blank lost in thought
Are we certain we are made in God's image
Man made names, submission to rebuttal of faith.
The alpha and omega extended with each reach of our hand.
A form of Religion beginning with each smile of her lips.
Branching from each thought of the red stem,
Three holes
Spouting lines of thought.
Doodles of string like hair.
Strings for arms, legs
Two circles used as breast
The details that make us so silly
Rebellious in the sense of drawing outside of the lines.
These fragile thoughts drawn on paper
With the concept
Nothing is as beautifully drawn as we imagine

She was a victim of my creative stimulus,
But I, no Frankenstein.
Great change brings sudden fear.
In brutal honesty,
Could she perhaps see I was the one dead searching for life through her all along.
All along I the sheet of paper that's become delicate to the wither of her hand.
The ideals and sketches
Alert that any moment I could be *** up and thrown to the side.
Without the modest nod of ink from her pen.
With careful eyes, thoughts only divert so long.
My hand longs to touch
But my mind is not so such anymore.
At this point religion became unaffordable.
I now suffered misery of a different sort, not wanting to lose what we've created.
I Feared she'd flee once she sees me for what I really am
A hideous creature searching for an perpetual sense of resurrection with
The acceptance of growing old with someone

She was curiously odd
A perfect stranger appearing after complete disaster
An accidental shoulder bump
coincidence to the next moment
She didn't let the world tell her who she was
She just was
She was Godlike in manner
The way she appeared
One moment nothing
The next a gust of wind, fast paced
crammed beneath the echo of feet against concrete
Next thing I knew she was gone

Her heart was like an Hershey's kiss
It's been quite a while since I've had a craving for such,
It's actually been quite a while since I've had one come to think of it.
I mean literally there are so many things that go on throughout the day
to actually sit down and realize hey the only thing missing right now is a bit of chocolate.
Unbecoming I was caught red handed. Attempting to take the last one out the bag.
It's not like I was a heathen or anything, giving the impression that I was to tear the paper off
shred by shred leaving her with nothing but the wrapper.
I would have shared in the manifestation of that one small thing becoming something greater.
She had something to be desired
She had something that I desired, something offered that I've never quite had
before.
Mouth watering in thought.
She presented a noteworthy question, one til this day I think we both know the answer to.
Only fitting after being overlooked so many times that it came natural
Giving pieces of herself wrapped up in this fancy tin foil only to be used.
Quite understable,
But she didn't understand this incredible urge that had to be filled

At times like this you scare me the most,
At times like this is when I seriously take into consideration the whole cup full, being half full theory.
At what point do I open the refrigerator,
At what point do I let the cup tilt over.
Yearning to sip every drip.
Every part of you that swirls around my taste buds.
Becoming less of me and more of you.
The sweet disaster of drinking out of an heart shaped straw.
Watching every moment pass through air bubbles of the straw, every bend. Every curve.
Dreading to hear the sound that echos all gone.
Realizing that at any point this could be the pivotal end of how we came to be.
With you there is no refill,
There is no running back to the store in manic rush.
No other brand of pop to replace that one perfect moment we met.
I'd rather drink you now rather than spend life wondering why the **** didn't I finish that drink

The stone that the builder refused,
Seeking refuge of purpose, justifying reason.
The cornerstone of structure, a cement paste.
Made solid through belief, faith that nothing is in vain.
The cracks and chipped edges smoothed out, made fresh.
The testimonial that throughout change, we remain strong.
Although ruin is soon to fall, the foundation remains.
Direct contact made between eye and hand.
Reaching over something based off appearance.
Sulk covered stone, passed over again.
The same stone provides shelter, protection.
What could justify such action, the coming of regret
Not knowing the perception of purpose.
The stone that the builder refused will be the very one you come running back to in time of need,
As wood often folds and bends.
The hammering of nails and twist of screws cannot change that
Self indulgent contractor

Her voice, angelic & free of restraint
Easily calming as the wind.
There's not a thing I'd change about the way the wind blows.
All of the good things that come as each breath slips between her lips.
The expressions her face would make conversing about any thing,
An language understood in the complete silence our eyes would make,
With complete permission to rest my ear against her voice,
The peace of mind offered by the touch of her soul.
The individually that separates her voice from that of the world.

Underneath the bright Hong Kong lights
The train darts off into the night.
The man next to me speaks in silence,
Nodding to the soft sound of the engine.
Head nestled into the comfort of the seat.
His head leaned against the window. Newspaper folded on his lap.
The window reflects the city lights.
A clear view of the stars that rest just above.
Twinkles outnumbered by the passing of city lights.
Folds of sheet metal and bolts welded together
Layer after layer.
The discovery of invention darting through the underground tunnel
watching the stars from the other side.
A sweet escape from the thoughts that make us feel trapped,
concealed.
The wrinkles on the mans face next to me droops,
he's sleep.
The innovation of being at ease.
And with a yawn and a stretch, soon I will be too

If my heart were a book
she'd dance across the pages.
Unfolding the creases folded for a later time
Replacing them with the bookmark of her kiss.
Opening each page, carefully reading with the glimpse of each truth,
The resuscitation of closed pages
Now able to breathe.
A survivor of tarnished pages and beaten cover.
She didn't seem to mind, carefree, joyful, what possessed her smile.
Reminding me of a better me, the well being of my very soul
laid in her hands without need for a shelf

And endure all it does, but how profound would it be. Realizing that  the whole time we are solving for X deep down knowing all the long what X really is. These repressed feelings thought as dangerous
As it comes in the most unexpected form.
The answers that we seek,
Broken down algorithms that never quite feed ourselves of need, quickly becoming an sensation of want.
Quickly moving on to the next problem.
When in reality, we fail to embrace what we've wanted the entire time.
Truly depending on the difficulty of the problem

Her hair tangles in the wind,
Bodies hurl themselves at her feet, behold a Queen held high. A goddess.
The sun drowned in her smile,
welcoming the coming of her steps. A huntress vanishing into a corner of thought.
Her hair flies free, thankful with each step.
A celebration of the strands of hair that drop across her brow.
I gazed from a far, not realizing that I've lived my dream

I could not see tomorrow without the view of the sunrise reflecting off of your eyes,
If somewhere far off the coast,
The waves echoed soundlessly.
I'd imagine your voice filling the gap in the times you were most happy.
This deep feeling that something was truly missing when on the surface everything appeared fine.
To what response do I owe the hands that created us to be,
What would happen if indeed the waves went without sound.
I dare not think, regardless of their loss of sleep.
The wanting of something deeper, the needing of something that fills the depth of eyes that long for tomorrow.
The three dimensional sphere that revolves around your very thought.
This faith that if the waves should ever stop, that you would be there to lull me to sleep,
Not just with your beautiful voice, but the patter of your heart against my ear,
The innermost faith that reacts without a single thought,
The extension of God's love living and breathing through every move, every thought that you have.
The very beginning of each and every thought I have of you
Without cease or end

All I ask is that you hold on to me.
Right now I feel that I am out of control,
With no sense of control. A projectile flying through the windshield.
Not knowing what to do besides brace myself for the impact.
The thought of losing control. Feeling that things are way out of hand.
When in reality things may be fine, seeking assurance of a firm hold
To calm the thoughts that run rampant.
The feeling of being tossed through the air without steady balance.
In these moments it is you that I seek for reassurance.
If only for a moment, grab me as tight as you can.
Show me that things are not as they seem.
Ease the feeling of insecurity in the times when thoughts get the better of me.
That I am flying face forward through the windshield without knowing how to properly brace myself.
In the midst of these thoughts, I am glad that you are my safe belt.
Even if it's the slightest tug, I appreciate you for always being there.
For being by my side even when you don't have to,
Thank you for being the miracle that has saved my life so many times

I fell into an absent minded slumber,
One where it was impossible to raise,
Unable to rise from which I fell I found an mattress of curiosity which I continuously fell under the conditions which I could barely explain.
I seeped deeper feeling every thread of fabric.
Giving myself something perhaps I didn't know existed.
I abandoned what I knew as moral reasoning.
Instead, choosing to let this sensation take control.
For once I felt like I had found a place that felt like home.
In every sense of the word.
Existing in every sound my heart chose to utter where words only complicated everything.
I found passion in exploring the unknown, the constant thought that loomed every thought I came face to face with.
The comforter splashing beneath me grasping the back of my head. The back of my body.
I refused to fabricate this as a scandal,
Giving myself something I've never before experienced.
Allowing myself to become attached to every fiber, every thread.
Lukewarm flutters wrinkling beneath my body, the pleasure of falling in complete comfort.
I conclude hating myself for not experiencing this subtle sensation sooner, for not desiring to break away from what I thought was life in it's full meaning.
Instead allowing the full embodiment of acceptance.
Finding that I was the only thing holding me back
Falling into the liberation of her heart
I've still yet to wake

I could not see tomorrow without the view of the sunrise reflecting off of your eyes,
If somewhere far off the coast,
The waves echoed soundlessly.
I'd imagine your voice filling the gap in the times you were most happy.
This deep feeling that something was truly missing when on the surface everything appeared fine.
To what response do I owe the hands that created us to be,
What would happen if indeed the waves went without sound.
I dare not think, regardless of their loss of sleep.
The wanting of something deeper, the needing of something that fills the depth of eyes that long for tomorrow.
The three dimensional sphere that revolves around your very thought.
This faith that if the waves should ever stop, that you would be there to lull me to sleep,
Not just with your beautiful voice, but the patter of your heart against my ear,
The innermost faith that reacts without a single thought,
The extension of God's love living and breathing through every move, every thought that you have.
The very beginning of each and every thought I have of you
Without cease or end

I felt your kiss against my lips,
Long before realizing how much I needed you.
I wish I could explain the depth of how much I drowned in the pool of your

 

eyes,
How much my eyes have wept the times you were nowhere to be found,
You have shown me the definition of your name, as to how important you are.
Your name, the feel of you against every thought.
That was the defining moment of my life,
The precious thoughts that go on with no end in sight,
The sensation that arrives with every smile
How fragile these thoughts really are.
The distance between you and I
the press of your lips against mine, untold truths revealed with something so

 

simple, the depth of sinking, becoming every morsel soaked in your mouth.
The nights spent wondering if you thought of me the way I've thought of you,
These feelings kept deep, sealed in a bottle hoping you'd return but soon

 

realizing there wasn't a bottle big enough to keep these thoughts of you,
I didn't want to, truth of the matter I never did,
Sitting there by the coast of you longing to sail away
Watching you with eyes closed wishing you were here.
To feel your lips against mine,
Eyes seeping deep into yours,
The only thing I've ever seen with open eyes

There is something about her,
This thought that travels across the mind.
Breathed with every breath that slips through open lips.
What is paradise,
Is it the sound that is vocalized when she speaks,
The stare shared from eye to eye, lost in thought.
Fragments of truth separated by the longing that occurs
Each time I realize the depth of how much she quenches this desire.
Swimming away in the swirl of her eye over by the shore of her thighs.
A correlation of thoughts that pass as the breeze, her breath sweeping pass
brushing my face with much delight. The thought of breathing each other in
She travels without so much as a single bag, passing from one thought to the next.
******* herself subtlety in the waves that crash into each other,
The taste of love spread across her lips, The sun blossoming it's last glint of light
drifting into the horizon of her eye.
A tourist whom longs to stay in the shores of her in thought.
Swaying to the palm trees by the bungalow of closed arms
where the waves brush against the grains of sand soon to sink to the bottom
Florissant bulbs hang on the wall, igniting passion from string to bulb.
A much needed combustion reminding us just who we really are.
From here,
I am a tourist whom longs to travel her, my paradise
With sand covered feet

Her love was like a molotov,
Spreading across everything it touched. manifesting into everything I'd ever know,
Devouring every bit of me in exciting fashion.
I became Drenched in this infatuation without warning,
Gasoline soaked clothes enticed by the flick of a lighter.
I found myself helpless in
this constant flame, grown out at every flicker,  its very touch.
Bright hues of red. Demanding full attention, her love.
I protested my profession in contempt, do I stay,
Do I lay flat and accept the spontaneity of each moment,
Slowly passing.
I held up my sign in an attempt to keep her from crossing the line. A plea of an mistaken cliché, not understanding everything she knew she wanted,
Still she fled towards me,
Leaving me helpless to every whim, every desire she offered.
I stood there lost in desire,
A simple decree of something I've never understood.
This incendiary combustion that took place out of nowhere.
The things said in utter silence,
The sound of who we once were shattering against the ground

The stars began to fall,
Coinciding with the flight of dreams.
Silver halos disappearing from sight,
The sky now dim lost in thought,
imagining paradise with eyes shut.
A world so dark,
Caught in a memory where the stars once shone.
A place I thought you'd always be.
The sky now open, without a single star.
A place I always thought you'd be.
Forever in my thoughts I'll keep you

Everything for the moment is inexplicable,
I wish I could give you this feeling,
To indulge in these moments of bliss that pass with each smile fleeting pass as the moments that fill the gap between us both.
Empty hands that long for something to grasp,
The air that escapes our lungs presenting it's ****** at the highest peak of the thoughts that occur when you aren't around.
The feel of your name against my tongue,
The thrill of watching the horizon mirror your eyes,
Watching myself in a place I wish I could dwell.
Wishing I could visit at least once or twice.
An all expense vacation to a place I've only dreamt
An early retirement, picturing myself in the hammock of your eyes.
Growing old without a care in the world.
The mist of the ocean cascading down the thought of spending just a moment there, The volcanos that implode inside out just at the thought of you.
Wondering if I could spend the rest of my life there,
Forever more by the bonfire that ignites every stare that connects you and I.
Without need for a passport, why would I venture else where when the place I'd really like to go is right in front of me