How often we drank
to our health
and discussed trips
to far-away places
like Florence
but the closest we ever got to Italy
was Olive Garden

And then there was the state
of the union

We made love
the same way we made money:
tax free and under the table
neither ever worked out for us

Once our intentions got caught
under the wheels
of complacency, it crushed
everything in its path
including the balter
of our offspring

When I blinked, the fires were gone and so were you

And for the longest time
I walked along the shores
Aimlessly
Panting and shoulders heavy
As the sound of the river's currents followed my every step
The coarse dirt and sand felt like a thousand needles pricking the soles of my feet
The black sun rises high in the skies
Sweat rolls down the apples of my cheeks

When I called your name, what echoed back was only my voice
Coarse and rough from exhaustion
From the dust and smoke that choked me
When the fires began to burn

I shut my tired eyes
And I try to imagine your face
But all I see is the smokey sillhouette
You left behind

I wandered and wandered
And with each aching step,
My knees shake like jelly
Weak, as they buckled
In the corner of my eye I see Charon's boat
His tall looming figure clutching the handle of a paddle
Hunched over, murmuring
As his eyes follow me like the currents of the river
All knowing
I felt transparent
And they were the last things I saw
Before my face met the ground
With a thud.









I rise to the sound of rushing water

My eyes flutter open
To see nothing but a grey haze
I lay
Unmoving
As water drifts my motionless body in gentle currents
And when shore hits my back
I stand
The blades of grass tickling my skin
Prickling my flesh

Where am I?

And I see it
The outline of a figure
Walking through the fog
Sitting atop a jagged rock's edge
As the sun peaked through
Its thick wall of clouds

And it's beautiful

It almost looked like you.

Sweet simple tunes
Under the light of the moon
So tender and bright
When the sun had died
All things had dimmed
Each fiery red into cool blues
But beneath the light
Of the Moon’s gentle gaze
Her soft fingers graze
The lands where we lay
And from her downcast eyes
Tears drip down her face
Each poignant drop falls
Onto grass and soil
And bloomed
These meadows
Valleys of white
These small flowers of the night.