I've only felt happiness in my memory
But it all changed when you came to me
As I saw you with red cheeks
I was immediately smitten

I feel like the cursed has been lifted
By your presence alone
As a reward for that
accept my love and what remains of my soul

I will be yours
Till the end of my life
I can finally feel love once more
To you I'll give it all

Through everything I will risk
Even if the world comes crashing down
I will be right beside you
I promise you that

Blue eyes like the ocean

Soft voice like the wind

Loving feeling deep within of the first love

You tell me not to reminisce
But i have a lover on the line.
What we did was NOT a mess.
It was lust making us blind.
You're eager to open up those doors but they are forbidden for a reason.
Im split between two now you become another all so fast in the summer season.
In fantasy i would love to see what holds.
But my life is already tumbling and i wouldn't want yours to fold.
For we are two broken souls.
And now we have to play our different roles.

(from “A Love Song” by William Carlos Williams)

<•>

familiar that apple google and amazon
have me under 24 hour surveillance
e-specially now
as I am in their
geosphere of influence

but sending me a love poem of WCWs that isolates my locale, my intended inebriation status,
and is addressed to me personally (“you”),
that’s just creepy

so charged am I, obligated to oblige,
to counter-compose a love song of mine own,
under the pinot “influence,”
(in a manner of speaking)
which a love taught me to love

what if,
a new love song ecrit,
to an old and loverly land,
a woman-land designed to be desired,
no difference -
kissing a new girl first time,
a wet and unforgettable
compote
when falling
on the neck of your one beloved anew renewed

now I tremble-tread
for the line of great predecessors,
“the land lover scribes”
skilled in natures homaging,
is like a line out the door,
around the corner as if
a new flavor ice cream
has just been isolated and mined and I...
<•>

I,
but a novitiate
in a far away, wild untamed world
where my nature taken by her nature
cannot deny paying my just due:

selvage
late middle English, from self + edge

how perfect!
“an edge,
woven on a fabric during manufacture,
intended to prevent unraveling”

the pacific coast air
the irregular shoreline - expanding/receding,
god’s own forestry reserve,
the cascades, a goal on the horizon,
country roads where ancient wheat stalks grow wild
all a tonic intermingled, an alcohol to
imbibe through mouth nostrils eyes and skin

all will be my own selvage!
preventing the eastern unraveling disease,
a nearly incurable permafrost low grade
kate spaded infection,
brought along with me for decades,
my loon June companion, now stalling out,
lost from my happy head

a vineyard on every corner,
marijuana growing next door,
rivers that change like children growing up and down,
cheek to jowled property line
live the berries and the hazelnut groves,
god’s hay bales wrapped in plastic
like marshmallows dotting the landscape

all daring you to say

I could
love
it  here