The fiery depths in the ocean of the star above us
burns brightly against a full moon backdrop
looked at by those who were never there...

Aware to care.

A chemistry incomplete.

Eye’s that almost don’t meet,
but comfort in between sheets
burnt at the feet
and imperfect perpendicular
black lines in a photograph
that doesn't quite cross in view...

It’s not what I’m accustomed to…

We are all in pictures that will be forgotten…

At least I can say the same
for the table of the rotten.

Flipping pages…

Complete.

So many memories
left glossy envelopes alone,
forever unknown,
and old
grey scaled
sunny days
on the beach.

A life of smiling retreats
and no one knows a soul,
especially the one whose view
we knew.

And all those looking into the eye
have all died.

No more tears are cried
and I can smile as I flip on past,
knowing where I, one day to,
will be at last.