if when comes a day the sunset does not amaze me:
     or my nose does not sneeze at the breeze on the shores
a wave splashing, I turn my back to, or
         any dog unfed goes by my house without a bone:
or a willow finds no one hearing her cries;
           a sparrow flies to alight on a limb
and I take no mental picture of.
            Or I forget to tend my yellow roses, and they become all thorns.
Or I don't get high when the bee or hummingbird buzzes,
      or when I sleep long and miss,
the mystic mountain as it grows out of darkness
       at sunrise.
**** me quick, if I for a second quit believing that life is meaningful.

Love is so complex;
too grandiose to comprehend,
too intricate to explain,
lost in some ulterior realm,
in a universe that is foreign
where the only thing of which I am certain
is that I am in fact
lost in you.

My body goes on autopilot
as my hands grip the sterilely frigid steering wheel,
speeding 20 miles over the limit,
body going through the motions
as my mind slips back into love,
into the all-consuming mesmerization,
grasping at song lyrics like straws,
searching the vowels and consonants for the
y - o - u
that I hear in them.

Reality comes and goes,
but you remain,
even in the moments most mundane;
sipping the koolaid slowly,
injecting your poison deeper into my veins
as I struggle to prevent the come-down.

What I feel buried deep inside...
it dries out my mouth,
creates craters in my stomach,
esophageal spasming,
I fight to catch my breath at the sight of your name on my phone,
the sound of your voice as you speak my name.

A thundering tsunami bursting at the seams of my
pale skin, my rosy cheeks,
the ferocity of my burning love
scraping against the bone and cartilage
to rip through me and
devour you...

And the only way that you
allow me to love you,
it's so small, it's so
momentary,
you only able to drink one
drop
at
a
time,
an entire hydraulic system,
streams and tributaries,
rivers and oceans,
forcefully squeezed,
funneled into daily droplets.

Dreaming of the last time I tasted you,
the times you used
to intertwine your body
with mine,
lost in incomprehensible ecstasy,
I can now only love you
through the simplicity of
conversation
and
of sitting by your side;
however,
even in its relative infinitesimalness,
I anticipate, yearn evermore for the stillness,
for I know that if today were to be my last,
if my hands were to slip off the steering wheel,
my body becoming sterilely cold,
your name would be the first word I would
speak
in my survival,
the last thought I would think
in my demise.

And though those moments
do exist
where I grow impatient,
frustrated with the walls you've built,
the dams you've constructed
to guard against my love's roaring riptide,
I would rather lose myself,
drop
by
drop
to you,
love you in the most minute way,
if it means I can
love you
at all.

The tiny flurries
Glide, shimmy down from the sky,
Their snowy bodies intertwining,
Rhythmically conjoining into a wintery waltz,
One two three
Together they step,
Sweeping against the buildings and the trees,
Resting their feet at last
As they gracefully come to a halt
Atop the pavement.

The first snow of the season
Blows its frosty breath against
My nose,
The wind catching my hair,
Whipping it against my scarf.
The cold feels
Jagged against my exposed face
And fingertips,
My lips splitting open from the air's
Bitterness.
I stop the snowflakes' strides short
As they get stuck to my coat,
My hat,
My long black lashes.

Winter is upon me.

I don't have much,
when it comes to ownership
Most of my earnings
were invested in experiences
Instead of possessions
Most of my time
Was spent on building a soul
Instead of a collection of objects
I honed my skills on creation
Instead of consumption
My concerns lie with
personal contribution
Over financial status
My allegiance is to brutal honesty
Opposed to comforting lies
I chose the mindset of evolution
Over stagnation
A mantra of the status quo
I have fought a life-long battle
against being jaded and apathetic
Instead of embracing it
For the acceptance of my peers
Because I chose to make a life
Instead of a living
and with everything I've lost
a little more is gained

My body quivers,
the tips of my fingers
pulsating wildly,
beads of sweat collecting
on my furrowed brow,
teeth sinking into
my bottom lip,
breathing in sharp
heaves of breath,
echoing the fast-paced
pulse of my enthusiastically
beating heart,
limbs tingling,
lower extremities losing feeling
as my body becomes absorbed
in the ecstasy
to which it succumbs
as, in one last swift, graceful movement
you make me explode,
my mind orgasming in the
crazy sensation we have
created in the simple
exchange of our
encapsulating dialogue,
reawakening my addiction,
my yearning,
my craving
for another round
of conversation,
rapture unlike
any other I've felt,
in tangibly feeling nothing but your soul
and your words.

Oh,
how conflicted is the soul
of a poet,
for we yearn for nothing more
than to share the deepest depths,
our nakedness and rawness in
the beautifully
tragic love we feel,
but how much do we
try to individualize
that that lies inside, to make ourselves
stand out, for we
experience the world in sensory means
beyond the normal comprehension
of those around us;
how badly we wish for our
word choice and alliteration
to breathe life into the persons
who never hopefully
comprehend our creativity,
for we are arrogant in our
supernatural secret-keeping,
in our mind games and
manipulation.
Oh, how I bless my soul,
a poet lost
deep in the depths of my own
emotion,
of my never-waivering devotion,
to being the most uniquely recognized
and desperately bittersweet
wide-eyed doe
that ever did aggressively
permit the world
to melt so fervently into a home
within her.

Melodies come whisping out
of my speaker,
engulfing my mind with a haze
almost as thick
as the one I just
inhaled, clouding my brain
with all the thoughts I push away
in my attempts to live my
individual,
unlonely life
when the depth of my soul hankers
for the carnation blooming
at the deepest depths
of your confused persona,
and the moment I find my heart
scrambling free,
reaching for its life in the midst
of gathering strength to likely break
another, you come around
one more moment,
and the springs I loaded beneath
my quivering ankles,
they unlock and unload,
melting me right back into your
rhythm and blues,
and I inhale that curiosity,
snorting and convulsing,
shivering hard against my uncontrollable
goose-bumped arms
as I fall back into your chorus
and verse three
repeats the reprise
of the
first verse
I ever heard.