Beneath the canopy of darkness
And the yellow of the street lamps.
We walk at the pace of a traveler
With no map or destination.
We journey down the sidewalk with
Goosebumps on our skin,
And a dimmed fire in our hearts,
The small distance between us
Being the only warmth
Against the harsh winter air.
You point your nose towards the sky
And let out a little laugh--
A little cloud escapes into the night--
And mesmerized, I find myself smiling
And when i look up, I swear I can see
The stars smiling too.
And as I watch the movement of your lips,
And as I listen to the sound of your voice,
I decide that the late winter nights
Are most beautiful
As long as they’re with you

The glass wall between us,

Write upon it.

Teach me your wants and wishes.

I'll do the same.

As we fill the pane,

Your smile will become obstructed.

The stories will become muddled.

And when we run out of space to write,

We will wait for the barrier to shatter.

Even if the wall never falls,

I will find comfort in the darkness we

Created.

It’s all smoke and mirrors
one-liner head spinners
it’s a good job I’m a thinker
so I could think better
than to waste my days
on a half-baked, head-**** love.
It could never be quite the same
as what I had in mind; just trust
that if you won’t pick me,
then I won't pick us

I tried to write a love poem, but all I saw was the bleak fog of forgotten dreams,
an endless list of broken promises; I walked circles in corn fields, flattening ***** cornstalks until they spelled out “love me.”

The brokenhearted are the first to sacrifice True Love for a
scientific deconstruction of a lover’s kiss,
rationalizations coded in clinical language,
“oxytocin this” and “dopamine that,”
it can all be explained,
there is no magic.

Scorned lovers dwell in limbo,
swiping right on the first piece of ***
who reminds them of the past,
whose photoshopped photo promises them Heaven;
True Love is now a simulation,
a cold affair with a blue light beaming back cute girls,
any one could be your Pam.

I fall in love with a screen over and over, until,
all that’s left is a bleak fog of forgotten dreams,
an endless list of broken promises;
all I feel is emptiness,
all I see is desperation.

I “Super Like” you, but I don’t even know you;
the dissonance hurts unconsciously,
poisoning a deeply dug well of romance,
the poetic truth serum secreted from the center of my heart is spoiled--
I hate how easy it is to lie,
to delete
to erase
to become a ghost.

I say, “I’ll talk to you later,”
but I never do,
you never even cared if I did,
or at least,
that’s what I tell myself in a bleak fog of forgotten dreams,
that’s what I write on my endless list of broken promises;
the sentiment is returned,
and love, True Love,
continues to hide in art, music, poetry, and film,
the last refuge for a romantic heart.

My heart is weak
Tear it down peacefully
Joker’s card, replay
Pulled my breath
outta me
Now it’s dealer game
A good night’s sleep
Or pacing windows
in the morning at three

i did not leave
because i thought you
would eventually ask me to stay,

yet i spent the night
and you still had not asked

Tonight, let's take a respite from the kids, get all dressed up, and head for the local grocery store.

We can even wear matching masks, take turns pushing the cart, and steal Kisses from the candy aisle.

You're on top of my shopping list, little lady, along with the melons and a case of toilet paper.

It may not be dinner or a movie, but it has its own romantic aura of about six feet in diameter.

Take my gloved hand & let's dance away at the checkout line, mask-to-mask. It's love in the time of COVID-19.

The silver lining
of her otherwise fuchsia
underwear, was in its ability
to sense danger.

The gray area
of her otherwise rosy
lips, was in who they were
allowed to kiss.

The red alert
of her otherwise bronze
thighs, was for what attempted
to get between them.

The white elephant
in her otherwise beige
room, is what happened
to her prized possession.