part of me
wishes
there were something more
lighthearted
to a super-sonic boom.

something muted;
not another
concept
to be scaled
by the
rock climbers
of
rationality,
in one ******* ear
and
out the other.

it's valentines day,
and I miss her.

there's no plainer way to put it;
what this day
represents
is my
drooping
solar plexus,
and the tightness
of my totality
when I try to
focus in
on the feeling;
or, conversely,
when I try
to turn myself
away.

And so I must accept it
in minor tidal waves
lapping
across my tired eyes,
just to get caught in the crevices
of my always-bleeding
lips.