the heat effuses from your skin and soaks into mine,
breaths soft as they whisper into open air,
a murmur, a shift of the lips, lashes quivering.
the crinkle that pulls in between your brows as if,
something is concerning you in dream-state.
but not bad enough, that it can touch,
the softness that permeates your form,
the peace that sinks in your limbs.
each finger curled, i become distracted.
until you turn over and we bump hips.
another hum of losing concern leaves your mouth as you shift into me
i want to disappear with you there,
feel the weightlessness of dreams,
but the bed is warm and so are you,
i think that could compare.

Little lily buds look at the sun
they smile and bloom
the morning begins so beautiful.

I worry about yesterday and tomorrow
keep missing out on now.

The more I see,
less I want to say
no longer want to stay.

The days get hotter and hotter
this budding cruel summer
I cannot enjoy the simple flowers
this bed has become my world.

I am tired when I sleep
fatigued awake
I need fresh oxygen to breathe
I've become living bone
all alone.

I took up gardening
during the quarantine..

  I made a lovely death bed
                I mean rose bed...


My husband hasn't been back
             in a while?

O' well

             I mean, 999 I haven't seen
my husband since I sent him out
           for milk..

He was coughing a lot but
                      I'm in quarantine.

So I couldn't go to find him,
                                 I'm killing him,
sorry I'm missing him.

Blue lights flashing,
            the boys in blue..

"Would you like a coffee,

"Yes, thanks love,

As we sat across from the roses,
      I asked,    "You ok,

"Ye, I just think these things look
               nice but smell like death,

As they leave I give them homemade cookies,
                special ingredient

homemade LSD..

Just encase they had any thoughts that I
         was the killer.

Rest in Peace hubby, I'm always right....

She hums to the beat
Of my racing heart
And my deal with the cousin of death
Collapses and at once I resurrect
With her laying on my naked chest
I transform into a playful child
Fingers travelling at a snail’s pace
Through the traffic of her hair
A world stricken with war
All my life, I’ve run headless
In pursuit of the look of peace
And there it wore your face
And it’s beautiful

“speck of sunshine beneath the clouds,
daylight breaks, bring rooster’s sound.
yawns and sighs as time ticks through,
rustling sheets bid me adieu.
farewell, goodbye, I’ll see you soon,
perhaps sometime this afternoon?”

The Lingering and the Unconsoled Heart
by Michael R. Burch

There is a silence—
the last unspoken moment
before death,

when the moon,
cratered and broken,
is all madness and light,

when the breath comes low and complaining,
and the heart is a ruin
of emptiness and night.

There is a grief—
the grief of a lover's embrace
while faith still shimmers in a mother’s tears ...

There is no gruesomer time, nor place,
while the faint glimmer of life is ours
that the lingering and the unconsoled heart fears

beyond this: seeing its own stricken face
in eyes that drift toward some incomprehensible place.

Keywords/Tags: lingering, unconsoled, heart, death, bed, deathbed, silence, last, rites, hospice, eternity, finality, infinity, grave

Dancing, you are Spring;
Birds flock to see your song, yet
Night falls and silence-

Silence but for the
Stars and moon who mock us in
Our bed, our Winter.