​
My finger grazes
The nerves of your hand,
As my feet sink lightly
Into the fine sand.
On my lips, the taste
Of old red wine,
Or even a sweet summer drink
Will do just fine.
My hair detangled
By the touch of your fingers,
In the air around us,
Your cologne, it lingers.
My eyes stare deep
Into the distant low tide,
As my head rests soundly
On your side.
I can almost hear your thoughts
In my mind
Your eyes stuck onto my face,
Peace they find.
The sea and the beach,
Love and peace, a mixture
But it's You who completes
My perfect picture.

Feed me a story –
I feel hollow
listening to the wind
work itself to a storm.

While we wait for the rain,
spin me one of your tales;
something wholesome,
with sweetness that will linger.

Soothing clichés
to slake my restive mind.
Although your voice is solace enough.

I have so much to say to you
but I haven’t yet 
mastered the skill
to undress my convoluted thoughts
to their bare essence.

So tonight,
under the swollen sky,
talk to me
about anything,
and everything –
keep me company.

Lately the only
Company I have is my
Old friend Solitude

Things are constantly changing
But these scars on my skin make me feel better
Because even if everything else falls apart
I know they're always there for me

A company grows
Fabulous and rich
In sixteen years,
Just considering you dead.
Another grows
Fabulous and rich
In sixteen years,
Just considering you living.
You remain still,
The living dead
For sixteen years
At the same account
Is it called "Karma"?

In the mood for love
But the current to fight
And I no longer hate the fire

In the mood for love
But I love solace
And the untouchable feeling

In the mood for love
But my disillusion
Keeps me company

In the mood for love
But I'm not one for
Showing you my secrets

In the mood for love
But years of closed doors
Make fresh ways hard to keep

In the mood for love
But I guess old habits die hard
And this is long overdue

Cobblestone,
Your eyes candlelit, blazing
I've lit a fire for you

Oh the fumbling of hands we share, here
The fumbling of elements many have felt
And I wonder if I am any different--

A trundled body of mistaken chemicals
Brash, raw--

Nevertheless
I wish to learn the angles
To love

--
c