Unlike what I was
I am a thing of understanding
changing into this shape
and many others before
only to look back
       and laugh
everything is temporary
outside of yourself

This is the poem that hasn't been written yet.
A dash of sad.
There are letters, and sentences, and paragraphs of
the lines on your face.
Your expressions.
This poem hasn't been written.
I describe in it, what it's like
To know your hand,
not just memorize it but know what all the nervous ticks
all the minute squeezes are.
To feel your heartbeat in your thumbs.
This is a poem with a growl.
Just a little bit because you are so much a part of my space
that I must kick you out sometimes.
But this malice,
is really just the orange to purple the
necessary opposite of the depths of how I
feel towards you.
This poem is how I think
any good poem should go.
I will think, I will laugh.
Of course sometimes cry.
But in the end, of course!
As all good poems should go.
I will be the better for having
read it.

I ripped our love apart.
I defiled it.
Whatever we had I graffitied all over,
I sprayed noxious fumes over a work of art.
And you're gone.

I ate our love up.
Devoured it.
We had a four course meal planned out.
I ate the desert before the meal began.
And you're gone.

I bulldozed our love.
Destroyed it.
We were architects for not just a building, a city.
I burned the plans, the structures.
And you're gone.

I killed our love.
Murdered it.
a life of
Your pit bull and
hairless cat and
motorcycle
Workbench
-did you ever take that course?
love

Your eyes when they were seventy.
When we were on shrooms,
I hallucinated you at seventy.
I started crying because you were so beautiful.
That was before I went homicidal.
But you are gone.
And I don't blame you.

Rain, rain, rain
My friend
Child of the heavens, that falls upon the earth and vast oceans
Rain
Rain upon the green leaves of trees and wet their trunks and barks.
Rain upon the flowers that have blossomed
from your mother’s *****.
Instill life on lakes and river beds, their streams
that dry when you don’t come.

Catch a couple holding hands, and rain
Shower them
Closer they will come, under his umbrella they will hide
Where their hearts will touch.
Let him smell the aroma of her silky hair
That will drug him like *******
Full of love and passion he will stare
At the sparkle of her stare
Drag them closer even more,
Pour.
Sprinkle a droplet onto her nose,
And let him wipe it softly with his thumb
And kiss it gently with the lips of his mouth
For now, here your job is done.

Rain, rain, rain,
My friend,
Rain.

Rain enough to make a paradise,
But wait for the old man that plows his fields
Wait till he gets home
Then, rain at your will
But don’t bring ice, and much less snow,
For spring has been cold, and winter even more.
That, the man especially knows
Alone he’ll sit on his chair on his porch,
With a rubber ball that he used to throw.
In the summer and in fall his dog would chase it,
But that was long ago.
Do you remember?
You got both soaked last November,
before the man was left alone.

But do not weep, just rain
My friend,  Rain.


Rain in big and small droplets on the earth and floor
Wet my bare feet and jump in between my toes
I want to stamp on the puddle of water that you’ve formed
Soak me and join me
Rain and accompany me
Let us form a camaraderie
We can tell each other stories
You can tell me of your journey as you fall down from above
And I’ll tell you of the plants and flowers that in your absence will bud
Don’t be scared, for I’ll be your friend
When people go inside when you come,
I’ll come outside
You will make the puddles and I the mud
Even with my fading eyes I’ll look up
At the sky to welcome you as you rain.

When you leave don’t leave too fast,
Else the rainbow won’t show up
And please, don’t say goodbye
Farewells are too sad
Instead, say an “until next time.”

But for now rain, rain, rain,
My friend,
Rain.