Your ghost haunts me still.
[Did you send him here to me?]

I see
         your tousled blond hair,
         those bright blue eyes
         your round red lips,
but
        It is never really you.

Your lips are the first
I ever thought of touching.
[Did you know how close I came?]

It snowed the day after you left.
I tried desperately
to catch just one
                            perfect flake
to send to you.

You cannot mail a snowflake!
my mother righteously said.
[Did you remember the frozen day
when I loved you first?]

My heart is frozen now.

And I suppose it didn't matter
since you were gone.

You left me here and I
could not forgive you,
that must be why
your ghost haunts me now.

I am sorry. I am so sorry.

I let you slip
through my fingers
                               and now
there is nothing left.

a shudder, a sigh -
without release,
                          you press on
without moving,
                          I leave

12.29.11
Is it too soon to say I love you?
Two months seems so short to
an outsider's perspective.
Yet,
no one can understand
how i feel.
How much I love you.
How much I need you in every way possible.
I need your arms around me to keep me safe.
You know I can't sleep well without that late night
"I love you."
I just need to wake up to your warmth
every day.
Until I cannot wake anymore.

Spring, rainbows,
ordinary miracles
about which
nothing new can be said.

The stars on a clear night
of a New England winter;
the soft air of the islands
along the old
Spanish Main;
pirate gold shining
in the palm;
the odor of roses
to the lover's nose. . .

There is no more poetry
to be written
of these things.
The rainbow's sudden revelation--
behold!
The cliché is true!
What can one say
but that?

So too
with you, little heart,
little miracle,

but you are
no less miracle
for being ordinary.

I stop halfway up 12th street
and stand there, letting cars pass me
not moving an inch.
I want to stay there
standing in the freezing rain
staring at the last curve of the road
until I fall over
frozen and soaked to the bone
waiting for someone to stop,
to get out, wrap me in a hug
and pull me to their car.
but I know  nobody will
that I'll die here
forgotten on a busy road
so I continue on
back to my empty, useless, repetitive life.

I would try everything
If not for the fact that it's too late.
So I won't bother
It would just be a waste of time.