How long ago did it burn? Did you feel it, or did it feel you?
It became papery and weightless, yet it could not be peeled back from which it came. It's been harder to make things easier, but I guess it's only supposed to be that way.
But didn't it die? Don't pretend you weren't there.
I watched you long ago in the privacy of someone else's mind, and from then on, it was set in stone.
I should stop, but I'm not sure how. I can't, we can't. We've been wrong from the very beginning. Shut your mouth and open your eyes, so you can see what I've been searching for this entire time. I'm sorry that I'm not and will not, no matter how this turns up. Believe me when I tell you I will always be, but will never be again.
Don't forget this risk and everything potentially lost from this.
You WILL be torn apart, and your heart will once again burn.

I've got enough
words in my heart
to write a novel.
But it would be a bad novel.
Pages and pages of *******,
bad advice and cliches
that I didn't even know
were cliches.
But even I know
that it would have its good parts.

Cherry orchards are beautiful this time of year



memories of you  , I



surrounded in the comforts of spring



warm and pastel light



a beginning



we lay within those purple flowers



I never knew the names of



pink blossoms slipping from the sky



like the snow thought left behind









secrets



how they burn within  



yours ravaging the soul



your hidden heart torn



the words you couldn't say



and your bed of novels  



how your dreams floated on others words  



and you wished , and wished ,  and wished



that somehow  ,  I was the one  



  





I lay on the rock by that tiny lake  



my eyes closed



and you tickled my ear



"wake up you beautiful man"



in your delicate hand , a blue feather



you wearing a sunny halo



the gulls circled and called in the sky



you curved your body over mine









I lay awake at night



eyes staring back into the black  



trying not to remember



and it's raining



I think of you crying



tears you were never afraid of


buried in loneliness



and I swing at the night



reality crushing  



with no goodbye



your final gesture









and now ,



I walk along this shore



under the struggling sun



and I hear a cry



on the wings of a gull



remembering your face to the sea



and little purple flowers



here , alone





copyright 2011 Robin Christopher Amaral