I can't remember the last time
I dreamed
And that makes me sad
Almost nostalgic
For those days when my brain was too full
To not dream
Those days that marked me
Colored me full
Colored me pretty
And interesting
Like the pages of a printed
Special movie edition book
Now I'm more like
An old leatherbound cookbook
Beaten and worn from past usage
Torn pages
Yellowed corners
Used
But might as well be empty because I am used no more
Full of beautiful recipes and possibilities
But too weak and fallen apart
To be reconsidered
I can't remember the last time I laughed
With someone who understands me
With someone who couldn't say
"Oh that's so funny"
When I tell a joke that's not
And instead berates me
For being so lame
But in a loving way
But this does not make me nostalgic
Because you always find someone better
People come and go
So do dreams I suppose...

Somehow it's different
Somehow it's not the same
I need to have dreams to know I'm still alive inside
And people can only prove I've got a physical body
That's all

I am an exhalation
A never ending sigh
An exhortation of extreme exaltation
A breath that pulls you in
No longer are you restrained
By containing thoughts of not being near me
I understand fully, the power of my words
I know that my voice sometimes
Crashes onto your ears
Similar to how a maddening storm
Tosses the surf relentlessly to the shore
Breaking your peacelike conscious
Making you grate your teeth
Never has there been a worse sound, I assume
But just as the sea
I calm
And the sweet rush of my waves sweep over you
And now you see clear
I remember your eyes being the strangest shade of blue
Never was there an exact word to describe them
So I just deemed them Tuesday blue
A blue that is not crystal clear
But not foggy like how you feel
Crawling out of bed on a Monday morning
And not summery blue either, like how the sky always seems to be
on weekends
The blue of your eyes
That Tuesday blue
Is the blue you see when you leave for the beach
On an impulse
Just to free your mind and breathe
The blue you see as you gaze unto the magical horizon
Just where the sky and ocean meet
That is the color of your irises
That is the color of my personal love
What I dream about at night as my chest falls rhythmically
Like the soft down tempo
That's usually the background music to our very
Melodramatic lives
So stare at me with those Tuesday blues
And listen to me me exhale
I promise to never hurt you
I promise I'll never fail

  (if promises can be kept)

goodness.
not that stuff that's in you, just the expression.
did you hear?
things have changed between us.
didn't you notice?
how could you be surprised?
i never let you think otherwise.
i'm bad for you.
don't you see that?
there's nothing that will change my mind, it's been made up.
i just want you to go.
**l    e    a    v    e

Slip your hands down my face
and you'll feel
the sweet grace
of my neck.
And below
you will find
majestic ridges
and sharpened edges.
Here is where breath
both touches and rises.
Here is where my heart
beats rapidly
strong,
because of your hands on me.
Sweetly it goes
like the last breeze tinted of rose.
Love knows no bounds
but is quick to entrap you in me.
So lay your hands across my collarbone.
Feel the entity of me.

Fingertips
Left footsteps
Along my arms
Ghost touch
Invisible much
All but bearable to me
His calm voice
His melody
I don't miss those
Personal felony
To think that my life
Should stand still
Because of his absence
Which left holes in places
That now catch a draft
When the winter blows in
And touches my bones
He took off
Without warning
Doesn't matter much anymore
This is not a poem about him
But simply of the void he left behind