a blot of ink spilled
across a sheet of paper like
  leaves in a book
   perched on a wooden
    shelf threatening to teeter
     over and spill on creaking
      floorboards in a wooden
     house sinking deeper and
    deeper into the depths of
   blotted synapse and
  leafless trees spreading
  roots into concrete and tearing
   out and through these concrete veins
     and through these concrete lungs of mine

I watch for you
And keep an eye on
The horizon
I cannot help but
See the sunrise
And it's orange edge light
Hugs my curves like
You would
Warms and burns like
You would
Smoldering then steadying like a match
Igniting memories of
Sleepy passenger seats
In an old black jeep that
Tasted of fish and old stories that
You told me
Of the late night in between in
A skinny dorm bed and the
Delirium of love and fatigue
Folding our eyes closed and our hands together beneath the pillows
And collecting on us like a heavy snow
The scent of old tobacco, skin, gatorade,
And dryer sheet that
Rests on you like
My sleepy hand
Rising and falling with your breathing
And then my florida dawn
After new world night and
A heart full to bursting
Watching big fish gather around lighted docks
And talking of things in
Beach towels on a bridge
Leaning
Looking over
The edge
I watch for you
With my eye on the horizon
And I know you in the
Break of day
I carry your gold dawn and it
Tempers the steel beneath
I watch for you
My love
Until you're home

It's 7:14 am
And I love you

It’s like dividing signals, that is what amazed me. I have to resist the impulse to grab you and hold you. I still see you, slipped into the underlife. The faith of our bodies is crying a little. I love starting things, but I have to pause. All I can take is the greatest pleasure, a replica. I feel like I have a plastic bandage made of lavender. Anxious, with fire to fire, I will try to slip you into the night. As the sun rises and the day turns black, the cotton-fields stand in my way but I still see you. The inevitable is happening. We are reaching for death on the end of a candle, we are trying for something that’s already found us. We are like a storm or some holy dream. Calling out doesn’t do anything. The sound of glass speaks quickly and I’ve been down for son long that it looks up to me now. I have never been heard. I am troubled, immeasurably by your eyes.

I read your letters sometimes
When I’m alone
A window separates
My dream from our reality

I’ve been sinking
Like a flower in a fountain
While you stand there with him
When I’m alone

You got tired of watching
All the flowers turn to stone
But there is a light that it never goes out
And it burns me inside out.

Today you stand there with him
As I watch the flowers turn to stone
A window separates
My dreams from our reality.

Not looking for a pat on the back
Don't care to be accepted
Not trying to be someone I'm not
Being all that is meant up be
Picking the side that feels right
Tired of being clumped with the rest
Or placed on a side that oppose of personal values
Don't always agree but respect others decisions
Willing to listen but don't impose beliefs
Open minded to others while others shut out my ideas
Given true honest opinions while spoon fed bs flavored lies
Honesty makes life easy but others complicate it
Others make it easy to lie but find honesty complicated

I dream the dreams no one can see
Pressing my fingers against my wrist
To feel the spaces between my heart beats
Attempting to even out my breathing
I just feel so lost now and then
Can't really set my feet on the ground
Floating up towards the sky again
Rendered speechless by my own head