miles that have been
miles that will be
interwoven throughout
my heartbeats

miles in grassy utopias
of mother's day and
emotional spankings
or slaps to the face

to death
to life
let's drink to breath
and smoke to exhale

this life of stress,
anxiety
living inside
the shadow of the past

this is so real
as the blood gushes out of my nose
the sound it makes
hitting the cold tiles

those cold white tiles
whiter than the noting itself
I keep moving on
through time

in the lawn now
looking at the midnight's
in mirrors
that reflect reflections

of her embraces
the leaves wind around us
interwoven like a wicker basket
this is romance my friend

my fireside poet
who burns in the seat
Only singed him
with these words

these words
It's snowing out
these words are waning
and the cold will **** them all