It's at times like these,
that I remember the sound of a piano,
skin crumpled within an armchair,
arms wrapped like a present,
and two burning river stones here to hear stories,
It's at these dark times I remember that...

when all was calm,
and time did not stand still, but sat with me, deflated in the silence,
Looking into the fire, we shared deeply,
hoping homely things
would come to us,

so still, so slow, as if we were never born to move,
but sit and watch without thinking,
I remember those nights when all else broke down,
and sat quietly with me watching twigs crackle,
Describing a night solemn
and thick with temptation to sleep, but
somehow never managing it...

but to tiptoe through the thoughts we already had...

I remember that time
When the moon peered in,
anxious to share,
unable to dazzle us,
accepting second place beside the fire
and singing, if silver light could sing,
and I swear I heard it, constantly serene
Hum an eerie silver tune...

hmmmmmmmmm, lightly, haaaaaaaaa...

Even dust does not venture through this space,
gathering around the dull armchair
in every seam listening quietly,
listening peacefully,
As thoughts lap the shores of unconsciousness,
and slowly descend into a dark sleep,
Where even the moonlight cannot reach me
and no troubles can disturb me...

yes, I remember

You collect your tears in a bell jar
for the day you run dry
you roll your memories over until they are smooth
like pie dough
you grapple with the inevitable
often afraid to move
so as not to awaken death
but listen to me, my friend
you have conquered life to reach this point
you have bathed in the sanctity of passion
and conjured imaginary places
while in the bliss of the finest music
you have beamed like the Sun
at the instant of creating new life
and turned numb with agony at the moment
of losing one so close
you have managed to elude the stones thrown your way
and graciously recover from the throws of failure
you have survived
do not fear or run from your impending leave
your mark is of tremendous value and expanse
to human kind
your love has healed and brought joy
your creations are you
and will continue to thrive in your name

embrace these days
be cleansed in your life's history
revel in your time

Don't worry yourself
think of the exploring you'll do alone
no one to drag you down

alone
alone
the word rings around my head
the most depressing decibel I ever heard.

No one to drag you down because
you have SUCH an imagination
how could this POSSIBLY be a bad thing
look in the dictionary under independant; you're the definition.

definition however
finds no hold in a mind made only of galaxies
the expanse is endless
thought can stretch so thin
I lose the beginning of an idea into space
and end up floating in the quiet vacuum of my head

I needed you
to be
the corners of my mind
a framework
to attach my grandiose ideas and give them meaning
to know
that I am more than just synapses
firing at random  into the dark
that I am a physical being.

I needed you to hinge me to reality,
because otherwise
I am just stardust and matter
trapped in a skull.

So many lines and laments
scribed in ink and feeling,
for the girl who is the ocean

but she is a swell and surge
too dauntless and wild,
for a lover whose bones crave the shore.

She craves the squalls and gusts,
and cast iron skies,
a worldly drift to sate the salt in her skin,
the deep pull of currents in her blood.

She is chaotic but not reckless,
she is fickle, but not feckless.
Love her boldly or not at all
her bones belong to the sea
but she will always return to the shore.