I am free of love as a bird flying south in the autumn,
Swift and intent, asking no joy from another,
Glad to forget all of the passion of April
     Ere it was love-free.

I am free of love, and I listen to music lightly,
But if he returned, if he should look at me deeply,
I should awake, I should awake and remember
     I am my lover’s.

sometimes I feel my words falling off me one by one and I cannot catch them and I can only watch them

like that rainfall that
   cannot be stopped
        over the roof of my apartment

and I get lost in
   the growing absence of you
        it consumes me

I keep
   reaching out my hands
       only to see fingers hanging in the air

                     you've never held them

I wish I could dream up the warmth of skin
   but my imagination has its limits
       I feel helpless in my crippled poetry

you are already forgetting me
    and I, not sure what to do with my dying love for you,
        get up around 3 a.m.
                                                 and make myself
              a cup of hot milk

          there is no tomorrow
  only here, this warm whiteness,
                 sip by sip

              the night drips
       out of my eye sockets
      contaminating my milk

Reaching one gentle hand
Into the comforting night air.
You'll never guess what's
Waiting there.

A tender kiss from the
Comforting rain,
Always erases the worst
Of my pain.

I step out into the
Warm summer breeze,
When the lightening
Brightens the darkness around me,

I freeze.
I look to the beautiful
Night sky,
As tears of peace escape

My weeping eyes.
The rain falls as though
It wants to wash my
Sadness away,

The smooth water caresses
My face without dismay.
My lips break out
Into a sudden smile,

Because feeling this
Sweet rain is all worthwhile.

Watching his slow self-destruction,
His heart crumbling away,
I can see the pain in his eyes
And the aching in his face.

I wish I knew what to say,
What to do.
Would he let me in if I tried?
I can be his support and so much more.
A confidante,
A friend,
A lover.

His restless eyes are growing darker,
And I only hope I am not too late.