My best laid plans
Are often ephemeral
I attend many a funeral
On raining days with cloudless sky
Soundless mourners try
To hold it together.
Ignore the water gather
On the coffee coloured coffin.
Drops drip down drumming
A hollow, empty sound.
That makes me wonder
What really is inside the coffin.

From your lips fell a sugar so sweet,
It left me spoiled and rotten and unable to keep,
From your eyes a gaze so warm just like the sunrise,
You were the very art of my demise

Whisper into
The wind. and
Hear it tell you
To be silent. for
Only the wind may whisper

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

you make me uncomfortable
in the most romantic way

Calligraphy of geese
against the sky--
    the moon seals it.