Where is your final town, your resting place?
And is Gene Davis there as well, and
Does he take his coffee strong?

As the days roll by
Do you try to fill the silence
Reminiscing of moments when pastels bled together?

Or is it mostly regret
That boysenberry and maroon never played
As well as they should have?

That you couldn’t fall in love
With the way the iris of a forget me not
Brushes up against the strength of an evergreen--

Overlooked her soul, Gene
Never caught the undertones in the light--
Only found beauty at the end.

The last time she shook
There was movement in the white,
And smoothness in the bronze of the church bells.

When the birds of spring sang with joy
To hail the blowing breeze pampering the face rapidly with moisturizing coy
When rays of the shine stand very kind to make the life neither hot nor too cold
Life rushes through the mobility of less anxiety or creating abundant tumult  
Shining novelty on juvenile tress’ robe bestow jubilee to those hurry to work
In confronting the bundle you expect to parole
Life is so lovely what are you feeling for?
- “ seems… GARLIC…?”
The most beautified Criollo … ladies of shadow…listen to spring and smooth song of returning swallows
- “ sounds GARLIC..?”
Sender of magic rockets to Apollo… ladies of shallow…   smell of plant mingled with heavenly blossom of sharp blue, it is a time to define the final intentions supposed to follow…
- “ feels GARLIC…?”
Drowsy, numb, with mouths open, shoulders down like zombies out of tomb… who are you? mighty dancers with delicate willow with strong sense of itching on our marrow
- “…ladies of GARLIC…”
Nobody comes, nobody goes, life is so hollow, what it supposed to be full of energy …you You talk a lot…just go!
smell strange not from corpses but from walls, earth, and ceiling… what is it?  
- “….life is …GARLIC…”

What's the point of feeling good when you just can't feel good;
So might as well be bad, when the times are bad.

My Kryptonite,

A month has never before felt like a year.
30 days of breakdowns and sanitizing my tears
A month alone-
Quarantined from everything but my thoughts of you

Just one day is what I crave
24 hours of bliss that bring me back from the disassociation of the everyday
I know I shouldn't risk life for a day with you
Yet the temptation grows as fast as COVID does

Tell me it's wrong
That I should keep us both safe
Remind me of the cost even if it hurts me to hear
Remind me that 30 days is nothing compared to a life without you.

Day 30 and I want to risk it all.

the days stay
the moments don’t

the soft rustle of the wind
blowing the leaves gently
forming a pile soon, once again.
blades of grass swaying with
rhythm of nature.

four walls, my friend these days
white hospital beds, a cold place.

longing to feel the touch of the w i n d.

it's one of those days
where nothing seems to be going right
and everything is out to get you,
woken up on the wrong side of the bed
and your whole day is off
you feel uncomfortable
but for no particular reason,
you're trapped inside with nothing to do
desperate to socialize
but your mood is contradicting your thoughts
and you get annoyed at the littlest things
but you don't know why
and no matter what you do to fix it
nothing will change
because it's one of those days
and those days never end
while we're stuck inside,
doomed to repeat them again.