Alone
in the desert
of my sable anguish -
a solitary wildflower,
I weep.

I injected you,
   and I swallowed you.
I drank you,
   and I snorted you.

Little bits of you
course through my viens.
My blood;
darling, my blood is the pigment
of your skin.

You forever exist in my body,
and my nervous system is hightened
solely by you.

My love, you maketh me.


(d.d.b)

somewhere
on unending
back roads of Nebraska
I left behind the ghost of my
cancer

In my mind,
There lives two wolves.
Two distinct voices.
Each telling me to make different choices.
How am I supposed to know which one to pick?
Quite honestly, the stress of it all is making me sick.
Is the right answer instilled in us?
In our heart and in our brain?
Or maybe two voices is all it will take to drive someone like me insane.

Tiny, little friends
Share tiny little secrets
As the symphony of laughter
And squeaking swings
Stuff the afternoon.

Tiny, little waves "Goodbye!"
Through tinted chariots
Whisking them home for the weekend.

And in twenty years
When the weather is irresistible,
They'll take their own tiny ones
For a walk.

When they stroll by the playground
And hear that symphony of laughter
They'll remember tiny, little Sarah
And her tiny, little secrets
Wondering how her littles wave "Goodbye!"

Go and find yourself in the sky
Where blue covers your eyes
And shadows never show
You follow your heart to a better place
And you just forgot to take your tears with you
You left them by coincidence in your past
Because once someone told you:
Never to be afraid and keep going on
Although it is hard
Sad people will be around you
And make you sad
Although you do not have to be sad
Surround yourself with warm air
And your heart will never freeze again

below me he sang a song
I can no longer sing along
a lover no more
he wants to ignore my hovering
as do I
a flight of stairs separated us
now it's everything else
I almost wish I had made some mistake
or he had smashed my heart to obliteration
because knowing we no longer
acknowledge each other
for no known reason
is like trying to move out of my own heart

I tasted you on my lips
hint of last night's honey,
   your essence lingered
a musky scent still
    enveloped my senses,
sun and stars had risen
  simultaneously
beckoning through pale
   filtered moonlight,
sharing what lovers do
we were as gypsy souls
    gaily dancing naked,
to the tempestuous
  music of lustful hearts
leaving sensibilities
    for the light of day,
when mingled ambiance
dwelled in contemplation
and the possibilities
        were infinitely composed

We're like birds who've lost
our voices.  Trying to tweet,
but no sound comes out.