Again today
People lined up
Not looking
Not seeing
Faces blank
Mouths shut
A million thoughts
unspoken
a million lives lives
behind the mask

My heart has filled with poetry
the words are gossamer light
Sweeter than the songbird
that fills the air at night

my love she sleeps in tenderness
as soft as finest silk.
Poems fly like butterflies
as pure as ice cold milk

I will always bring my poems
for my blessed one to sleep
They cover her in eiderdown
all though the night
her soul to keep.

Aloft, the mattresses on which she sits
Are facades that shield much more troubling things.
Their roots are grounded deep inside the pits
That stop solutions; soon, the bars will bring
Another pea to which the mounds will mold.
Bedsprings try to push parasites from her,
But soon tendrils will render her stone cold.
Naught can stop progression, if I concur.
As for things besides, that pea rots, growing,
Into another monster without rest,
And till the truth emancipates, the sting
Can melt the layers entirely in jest.
Though, when that day comes for longer sleeping,
Peace is felt by her who’s longed for keeping.

What distance separates
After being this intimate
And holding tight
To the one out of sight.

A stranger under the covers
The soulmate out in the open
Lovers at bay
And lovers that will not stay.

That chatter of passerby
The friendly advice
One too many
One is enough.