We sit on the edge of conversation
Hands clasped, feet shuffling anxiously
Eyes darting across the room like
the stars in the night sky
You lean back with a sigh
and I catch you.

Hands together, knees bent
fingers touching skin
Tracing outlines of mountains on the map you offer me
You look up from my gaze and a calmness falls across your face
The corner of our eyes don't wonder but meet
Times entangled in the feast before us
I raise a leg and your knee greets my feet.

Waters greet these feet,
Waters that rage on and under us
Washing over our bodies like the light that’s wrapped itself beside us
Bodies become one in the heat of the den that we've made
In the depts we've paid
The depths we've obeyed
The trust we've displayed

Down by the rivers where the whomping willow weeps,
where the waters run ramped, and the wild things wonder
wonder about life, wonder about death
run through your mind son, be absent, be bold
just don’t forget that the water man reaps
reaps in what is sown, sold and told

whispered. whispered like silence on the edge of the wind
the wind that howls through the corner of beauty
there where it stays and sits for a while,
as the man, he stands, waiting watching on duty.
I look back to you, your face changed by the cut of a smile.

A smile.
That smile, that warms my soul like summer breeze,
Wraps me up and takes me in from the cold
You don't even realise, you do it with such ease
You do it now when we're young and you'll do it when we're old.

We sit, once again, as we used to, but more alone
Hands together, fingers crossed, in utter isolation
It’s such a wild thing, wild life that we’ve known
And none of it is ripe for an explanation.

Feet dancing on the edge of contemplation
This information that we use for the source of our meditation
Imagination sparks conversation but also speculation
So, what are we to do when there’s no confirmation?
A shout shuddering in the darkness of creation
Thinking of the combination, representation and motivation for these words when all I ever wanted was a simple conversation.

The depth of the ocean;
feels shallow when we
both jump straight inside.
As it's tears make us cry,
when we see the bluest sky.

And with a spray
paint tan of a smile,
It peels off to pieces in
the Sun's glare, on
the walls of your face.
A child lost in a store of
life's advice, soon
after you let go of a hand.
The united shoe laces,
and red eyes,
pretending not to cry.

Love is too heavy for you to
hold, even on the shoulders
that rests the entire world.
In the songs of anguish,
with unassigned chords.

Chewing on your tongue,
to swallow all it's words.
As all you said was in vein.
You felt hidden under the skins
of a plastic face of your nerves.

You and I, try to find ourselves,
as we lose ourselves ever more.
My mind and I are mislaid,
and lost to thought.

I love the conversations that we have.
There's no rush involved
A certain amount of logic or
Anything otherwise overbearing.
We might not say that we love each other
in the sense of coming out
& Saying the words, but
We do so in a more fun generously
Giving way.
If I ever slouch or have something
on my face you tell me in a way
that doesn't feel remedial
Or wait until I reach your train of thought,
which could otherwise
Feel embarrassing.
A mutual understanding in patience,
Filling an empty space in my bones.
The cushioning that relaxes and eases
Tension.
No matter how goofy or if we don't see
eye to eye.
You're the only woman I want
To fall asleep on, while
You fall asleep on the couch.
With three perfectly good explanations
Down the hall

do you remember when we talked
about the capacity of our hearts
how it can be bigger
than our own bodies
capable of swallowing
entire galaxies
like a sun
exploding, burning
devouring everything
in its wake

when we wondered, desperately
where to keep all this love
inside of us
threatening to spill
everywhere
anywhere it could go
if it had a place to stay
and welcome it home

when we recounted histories
of loves lost and found
of foolishness and folly
of hearts breaking
with the magnitude of earthquakes
shattering into the debris
of our memories
only resurfacing if
they are dug up
with tender hands

when revelations were spoken
recognizing all the mistakes
naming all of the hurt
one by one
and saying,
"i've known you"
and it is beautiful
all of it, the whole of it
some sort of sobriety
after what feels like a lifetime
under the drunken influence
of our hearts

in another universe
there would be versions
of ourselves
who have chosen
to be content.
but here,
here
our hearts are bigger
than our bodies
and they can break
with the magnitude of earthquakes
and in our stubbornness
we will choose to hurt,
to ache, to yearn
and yet
we will always dive heart-first.

"Why do you believe in me?"
"Because sometimes, I don't believe in myself. That I'm really helping.
But we all need something to believe in.
And I know that you believe in me.
So I believe in you."

I had a conversation with the devil
off the books; it wasn’t recorded,
the correspondence was something to revel
but it can never be reported.
We sat across from eachother at perfect level
but I still felt small and distorted.
In his presence I was disheveled
but I wasn’t the one who was sordid,
it appears he intended me as a vessel,
viewing it as I had been rewarded.

I had demons on each side
striking a bargain over my shoulder,
the heat in the room magnified;
I started to smoke and smolder.
Then they began to attack my pride
while reminding that I’m getting older.
I couldn’t run nor hide
as their weight began to feel like a boulder.
Their evil grins stretched wide
freezing me in place; my soul grew colder.

The third course had arrived
a pound of flesh disguised as an entree,
and I was very quickly advised 

to be mindful of what I say.
As though I found it deprived
it would be wise not to give that away.
I knew the victim hadn’t survived,
and my stomach turned at the hue of grey.
They asked if I had been baptized
and if I did, how frequently did I pray.

The devil licked his lips
and he whisked his wine,
more aggressive became his sips
as he frequently eyed mine.
Providing helpful quips
like the year, saying it was divine,
and dolling out some tips
one being that it was rude to decline.
He told me that he held all the chips
and that I only had a vine,
and he was determined to have me in his grips
regardless of the strength of my spine.

I finally came to the conclusion
that it was my turn to speak,
but amongst great confusion
I made no sound, not even a squeak.
It had to be part of his illusion,
I refused to feel so weak.
He implanted the delusion
but each word began to leak,
and with each pull and each extrusion
I voiced of the havocs he would wreak.

He asked if he could reply
as he was just misunderstood,
and though I knew it a lie
I told him that he could.
So he began to fake cry;
swore his potential to be good,
while pointing up to the sky
blaming his flaws on childhood.
A story I knew better than to buy
paired with an excuse that I never would.

Now dessert, finally at the brink,
anxiously waiting to get up, away I’ll slink.
He told me not every soul is equal no matter what I think,
and the apple is poison but I should try the drink.
Held up the worlds suffering and made sure I didn’t blink
and said “you can fall deeper even while you sink.”
But the conversation was done, I realized I’d been hoodwinked.
He just grew in size, I was never the one to shrink.

I got up and I rung the bell,
announcing we were done, no need to dwell.
Extending my hand out to meet his cold shell,
I was no longer under anyone’s spell.
He bought my false thanks, as far as I can tell,
and I informed him he should return to his cell.
Meeting his eyes I pushed to wish him well,
I may not believe in Heaven but I have seen Hell.

Its not going to **** you,
Just leave it alone.