Thinking back on that day
so long ago, I always have to ask myself
if my recollection is true.

Did the sunlight and the spray from the falls
really create a rainbowed halo above you?
And did the trout all rise to the surface
at one time just to feed on your beauty?

On even the coldest days the memory
still never fails to warm my heart.
Funny how tomorrow I might smile
thinking of that day so long ago,
and the next shed tears abundant as the falls
that in concert with the sun
sang you forever into my heart.

r ~ 4/4/14

I turned back every clock in this stupid house,
but that didn't help. You were still there, with every
second that passed. I realized, now, that I've forgotten

one. The one that takes refuge behind lines of bloodied,
bruised ribs, as well as the one that kills me. Not to mention,
the one that's responsible for my being alive. It doesn't keep

the right time, for it still thinks you're slipping secrets into my drinks
and spreading me across sheets like rose pedals. I turned back every
clock except the one in my chest, and it just won't stop ticking.

Check under the bed,
in the closet, on the floor,
in the garbage, through the window
and even out the door.

*I need to find myself.

There are some moments that become still..
In a sense they become a time stop..
If you need me please tell me..
I am at a flux in time where I can meet you for the first time yet again..
Where I see you for the first time yet again..
The sight of you helped me invent the universe..
And I want to invent it all over again..
It was your eyes where I saw the need for galaxies..
But what I am really asking is what did I help you create?
I'm willing to go back and try to see what you saw in me..
I tourment myself with such understandings..
Because they are in no form understanding to me at all..
Is it all real?
This is more vast than me..
At least I will think so when some day I will realise it all..
Imagination really does scare me to no end..

tonight I'm tiptoeing the weather-worn railing of an old city bridge
rusted, deep reds, its tarnished downbeat complexion, carefully
ten thousand feet away from the luxury of the ground, balancing
to the left, a canyon, to the right, a waterfall
to the left, a promise, to the right, a dream