Slate skies lay still
Cool against my smile on bus stop corners
Already missing the bright caress of sun
Your letters arrive less and less
Further apart than the one before
I breathe you in on each envelope
Curled black ink telling more secrets than truths with each line

In my bedside drawer
rest letters sealed and stamped.
piles upon piles of potential
regret.
I may not shine, but I choose
not to rain.
silence is at times
closer to a yes in my language than in yours.
here, attached to the leg
of a white dove;
my heart. blank paper is
still paper. men suffer
from limbs lost
without words.

Tracing the edges of many a time read pages
I hear between the lines
More loudly than what is written
Dear John on the tip of my fingers
A heart that will not give up
Shadows lace this back and forth
Waiting for the light to break

My heart and I are not
always on speaking terms.
sometimes I want to
tell it I'm sorry, but it alway
beats me to it.
keep my blood flowing, I
beg of it, and I will think
for us both.
later. later. later.
then we'll rest in love's
nest of sweet childlike
restlessness.
later.
I have heavens for us, after
the rain.
suns with your name
on them.
blue is the color of sorrow
and cloudless
skies.

I will be seeing you in starlight
Behind the echo of my midnight sighs