An eighteen month ban and two-thousand-pounds fine?

Don’t accept them.
Take the tamper-evident bag
and go.
Re-wind blood stains from her clothes,
fractures from her bones.
Un-stop her heart from beating,
un-puncture her lungs.
Take from her the understanding
that she’s about to die.
Pay attention.
Un-impact on our lives.
Don’t walk away
with that
sentence.

It’s non-refundable.

Romancing the end of the world
We danced in suits outside,
Underneath the blue night sky
The stars and moon collide

"The world is ending," I whispered
"And we are going to die."
"I know," you said
"So let's keep dancing - be mine until we die."

People were crying and screaming
In fear for their lives
Then they saw us slowly dancing
And didn't care if they survived.

First two became four, then twenty more
Dancers joined our side
Until the whole world started dancing
Under the falling sky.

The stars and the moon began to fall
Burning us with no surprise
We kept on dancing until the end
We had never felt so alive.

The day I buried
your memories,
you sent me a postcard
with your love written
in blood. And despite
the pain you've brought to me,
my hands couldn't fathom
how to drop this last piece of you
into the grave.

You left no return address.
No way for me to slap
you with the stinging
knowledge of how thoughtless
I considered you to be.
So instead I filled the
back of a Polaroid
with everything I never said,
and placed it in the postman's hand.

I told him that if
he ever saw the person
from the picture, and
placed the Polaroid in
his hand, that I would
pay him in stories about
a broken life.

Or if he preferred,
fifty one dollar bills.

I don't know
how to stop kissing you
long enough to untangle
our breaths;

how to move even the
slightest distance from the magnet
of your skin,

how to feel anything but
your heart beating
within mine.

I do know
we are healing the world
with our love
and each kiss.

I feel like “like” is a lost emotion
Often replaced by “love”. But I don’t know
If “love” is an equally strong notion
For “love” can fade, yet “like” can only grow.

“Love” is a word that can be thrown around
To express a variety of things.
But “like” can have a meaning so profound
That you would find the lacking of “love” stings.

What is “love” when you say that you love me?
Just a word, a phrase… or a true feeling?
I hope that these first two can never be,
But the unknowing is unappealing.

Though fear not my dear, for I do love you,
Yet beyond love, I say, I like you too.