If there were a way
to make a painting
that could say
"I love you" without words
I'd paint ceaselessly
for you,
if there were a way
to move my brush
in patterns with your
chords,
I'd paint the sea
for you-
swirl metallic
tides onto a
canvas
and you'd know
exactly
how I
feel

but paintings are not
words
and words are not
my strong-suit
so you won't know I
love you
and I'll continue to
paint.

It's been awhile
and I'm still treading
water in the dark
streets;
it's December

limping up Villard in the
harsh, the bitter,
the 1 o'clock freezing
hour

You say the sun sets
and the flicker always fades
that the night is
guaranteed
(and I'm no fool, I know that
ups go down and I've heard this all
before)

but in the darkened hours,
the lamplight hours,
the gloveless-countdown-to-Christmas hours
where this has started and
it's too late to
stop it
now

I'm walking next
to you
where love is not certain like
the pitch-black curtain of
nightfall,
and where I'm finally warm
for a
moment
in snow