I understand the isolation
   what others call being alone

I understand the silent moments
   the inner freedom to roam

I understand the derision
   and the label of being called strange

With each new dawn I most understand
—the joy in not being the same

(Train To Center City Philadelphia: January, 2015)

one-Mississippi
two-Mississippi
lightning traveling faster
than thunder
hurry

It's outpouring
sideways rain

the clouds running away

where are you going

not cold
I'm not cold
I'm used to this bitter feeling

bending backward to see the sky leaving

Knock knock.
I've been knocking on
your door
for a while now.

A question, a haunting thought,
"how long can I keep doing this?"

From a dark corner,
heard a whisper;

"that door will never open
if you have no place to
dwell inside."

My heart sank, like a rock
thrown in a lake.

I already broke my heart waiting.
I don't want to break my hand,
if I keep trying.

The trap was set by the light of the winter blue moon ;
just a simple blank sheet of paper and a pen
The Antique Cherry carved poster bed stood alone ,
adorning four Bordeaux colored silk pillowcases ,
fluffed feather pillows impatiently laying in wait
The stone cold down comforter that blanketed the loneliness
was neatly turned down from where it lay tucked and rolled ...

I close my eyes with a surrendering sigh ;
the cold touch of solitude brings a breathtaking shiver
Curling up in a fetal ball for a sense of closeness ,
like a tiny abandoned child, waiting for the sandman
to steal away the remains of another lonely day ...

In the imperative silence of the moonlit stillness ,
you could hear the blood running through my veins
The pounding heartbeat is reluctantly softened
quietly drifting off into a dream ...

The first arousing whisper broke the silence ,
as musings tiptoed through the silent reverie
Songs danced throughout the secret places ,
safely kept out of the wilderness' nocturnal voyeurs eyes
Words murmured expose an unsated caged yearning ;
an insatiable thirst that aloneness can not quench ...

Emotions ebb and flow within the twilight depths
of our thickly breathed word play
Intertwined in the infinite beauty
of enchanting moonstruck conjured delights ...

We glide speechlessly in the starlit moon dust,
levitating blissfully like giddy adult playmates
with  an  uninhibited  wanton  glee
Mesmerized by a rousing romantic essence
stirring up an urgent swooning breeze
If only this recurring dreamfulness
could reach out beyond reach a bewitching dream
to tenderly touch another impassioned heart of soul ...  

                                 ~

The sweat soaked sheets are now tangled ,
twisted traces of ecstasy tossed and turned
Awakened flesh trembling with the uncovered morning chill
A body drained and exhausted
as if there were never a moments sleep ...

The trap was set by the light of the winter blue moon ;
perfectly placed to catch the spilled secrets
of a moonstruck midnight spell
Awakening to find a paling illusion’s memory
laid bare in words, stranded on the cotton sheets of dawn ~

In the heat of the night these three simple words 
were clearly scribbled, trapped on the once blank sheet of paper ―
                       to remind me in ink blue ...

                               It  is You !!!

                                    and

               " I breathe you in my dreams "


             harlon rivers ….❤  happy belated St. Valentines day ☽