If you think for a moment
that I don't care for your smile
Let me apologize.
My face doesn't always match my heart.

Selfish though I am
my thoughts tug me towards
a quiet glen
a sanctuary of lush greens and -
a profusion of exotic comforts
to enjoy with you.
Always with you.

This.
this moment,
before the now gives over
to cobwebs and dusty pleasures.
This opportunity.
Presently unwrapped,
spirals wasted into the breathtaking dawn.
Now
with the hideous cawing
and honest sunshine
stand bare,
and tell me that you have no regrets.

I disappeared today,
transparent ambitions
recreated with the gentle tickle of a paint brush
gliding over my skin.
Deft, sure strokes leave no room for argument.
This is you,
I have made you again.
A beatiful piece of art to hang
in some long, echoing hallway.
You may look, but you must never touch.

immediate pleasure
- convince me otherwise
why should I recede into routine
when life bursts around me
- vibrant and chaotic
instants chasing eachother around and around
like pixies
a game of tag where everybody's it
and there are no home-frees.

Pre-emptively
grieving the moment,
I stand very still
one finger tracing the soft outline of my own, alien lips
the petals of an exotic lily,
the mystery of my own making
leaves me breathless and powerful in the dawn,
before the elation becomes regret
and my reasons are erased.

the buzz stays longer
in the moonlite,
you glow bizarre colors
extravagent gaiety
overcomes us while the crisp outlines blur
and the streetlights
swerve and duck
to our erratic pleasure.
This time,
I will remember our childhood
as we laugh,
I will see us as grandparents
playing in the sand again
with sweet-faced angels
And I will allow myself to exist today.

Wept,
a dark corner in the alien garden
the strong stone bench refuses our complete collapse
and the impersonal wind carries our last sob away,
lithe and playful
winding its way between ticklish aspens
Until we are empty
Purged of all we had coveted and hated
- and the dawn comes automatically.
Greeting the sun, birds sing (not because they are happy)
because they are birds.