the edge of good bye
soft and slow.

the shiver of night
and you fell into the arms
of night
and hope knelt
like a whimpering dog.

the chair across empty

and in the seams of sleep
i find the words I never spoke....

and in a dream,

i can trace my fingers slowly
along your cheek,
feel the warmth of skin,
and the edges of longing
fall into place.

how far is heaven?