lover calls, lover waits
my lover is without a name
she's tuesday nights, she's southern rain
she's everything my mind won't say
her laugh is loud, her soul is dark
still screeching from a broken heart
and day old jokes, and weekend loves
from just always being bad enough

she'll ask me one more time
just for the sake of love
whether my heart is still open
or if i've had enough
and if i had to guess,
if she asks tonight, i'll say
"i love you cause you know my name"
-aprilxcv

I adore you
Not as a collector idolizes what's his to keep

You're beautiful
the cusp of your hills
leading to a shallow sink hole
just before the meadows

You're perfect
The circular masses
surrounded by pure white sand
Even when it rains
emotions gleam flawlessly

You're joy
Hide poorly your white city
Covered by soft rose gardens
That part
In a way that evokes happiness
Within me

I adore you
Not the way a collector
Idolizes what isn't his to keep
But as

A traveler...
Lost in another land

...finds himself.

A brief, but passionate inhale.
Who would have thought,
of the autumn in her eyes?

A sweet, delicate voice.
A beautiful sound to detect.
And never forget.
And never regret*.

The stud of a nose
Her own clothes and eloquent verbose
An unheard of strength
That she shrugs off like dirt.

And she knows of Dad.
Because she has been there too.
Not just for the smell of *****,
Or for the pain of just one bruise,
But for the depth behind
A clenched fist
and the struggle for eye contact.

It was 6 AM.
In the autumn.
And things just happen.
But see,
it wasn't just a thing.
It couldn't be.
The way I held your hair
And hid it safely behind your ear.
And accepted the kiss
That my fear could not initiate myself.

It was the blue,
And the blonde.
The black of the beanie,
And the spots of the sweater.
It was the look
and the smile
and the inhale.

And then
it was the stars.
And the stone wall.
And the Boston skyline.
It was the teasing.
and the alcohol
and the spot by the river.
And it was autumn in her eyes.

It was heaven in the trembling of my knees,
and in that kick in the shin,
and in the brownie brittle,
and in the passionate kiss in the room upstairs.
It was hell in the uncertainty.

And as the time will pass,
We will attract or repel.
Naturally.
And where this ambiguity chills me to the bone,
I find autumn in her eyes.

Nan,
I wrote this poem for you to keep
As you lie peacefully asleep
To share the stories you once told
Sat in your chair growing peacefully old

I will always remember those days
When I sat up to the table studying the maze
Of thousands of puzzle pieces in my gaze
However I was never fazed
Because you were always there to guide the way.

I will always remember your trips out and about
Although never adventurous I felt,
McDonald's and M&s; without doubt,
Were you favourite places to walkabout

I will always remember your creative flare,
Your knitting needles and you cross-stitch squares,
how you could sit and chat, yet knit with care
Always seemed so unfair  

But most of all, I wrote this poem to say thankyou
Not just from me but from all the family too
For the wisdom and knowledge you once shared
For showing you loved us and that you cared

I wrote this poem to say goodbye
As you watch us from up high
I remember all the fun times we had
As my friend and as my Nan
And I miss you more than words can say

I hope we can meet again someday

i'll leave behind a legacy of lengthy love poems
so that no reader could ever tell
     that i've never loved a heart who loved me back

i'll ensure that my body leave behind no bone unbroken
so no anthropologist would ever guess
     that i spent my entire life scared to death

and i'll fill each dusty corner of my tiny little house
with plants and books and trinkets of memories forgotten
so that the coroner could never publish
     how empty i really felt

oh-
          of all words i've ever spoken
    i pray that these will never read broken:

*i will sow this great earth with ideas for blooming
each incapable of death so that no child ever guess
    that i didn't live forever

Can you tell me what true love is like?
Like gold spun into silk?
Or maybe it’s be just like,
A perfect glass of milk.
Perhaps, like a beautiful field,
Admired from afar.
Or instead, a road with no sign to yield;
A song on in your car?
Tear drops that will never fall;
A child that can’t stay still?
A dog that has a rubber ball,
Or a fire you’d never ****.
An angel spotted near the Heavens,
Or a devil far below.
A jackpot; three sevens?
Bare feet on icy snow?
Can you tell me what true love is like?
Is it painful? Is it nice?
Please, tell me what true love is like.
For I fear its grip is upon me like a vice.