When I was small
I needed nightlights
in the farmhouse by the swamp.

Shadows gathered in corners
like animals without names.

Before the move
I stood in the field at night,
no outline of trees,

the sky clouded,
air held still by heat,
depthless black before me.

Later, streetlamps
cut alleys into squares,
windows spilling yellow

from kitchens and bedrooms,
a neon sign dripping red
onto wet asphalt,

engines keeping the day alive.
Not dark.
Thin. Unfinished.

What I knew as a boy-
dark was company.
It held me,

steady as the breath
in my ribs.
Older now,

I long for that silence.
I have grown
so unafraid
of the dark.

Do the children imagine it’s a door?  If so ,  to where?  
I can  see the  Old men lamenting it as some sort of  warning , but
failing to recollect entirely.
   Lovers, sometimes, mistaking it as something they feel
a need to fill ,
or trying to force it to become a  shelter.
  But no one carries away the same story after standing before it.
Those with  the fleeting courage to face it
These shapes in the world
stepped aside.

An absence, that draws
air leans differently there,
             palpable,
   as if even silence forgets
why it started
or how to stand.
To approach and look in.
  speak, to it with an unsteady  voice
returning
  broken,
smaller, as if ashamed its self .
Others refuse to stand near it at all, afraid of the way the edges keep their secrets sharp.
          Is it not empty , or emptiness ?   Was nothing ever something ?
That much is certainly   uncertain.

In the mystery,
does it wait ?
As if wanting and waiting   were its only language.

And can those  who manage to leave it behind
find themselves walking differently ,
lighter, or heavier, depending on what they thought they learned ?

Neither teaching or the teacher.
A space
wherein sits what we think of as nothing.
In reality we can’t perceive what is there but, it’s not empty
only our desire for it
to be .

Why does your touch feel divine?
I thought only death could give such pain,
The heart burns each day, yet beats just fine,
Come extinguish this fire, be my rain

Why are these nights so dark, so cold?
Your presence lingers, long after you are gone,
I ache for your hand in mine to hold,
Come ignite the void, herald my dawn

Is keeping us apart a plan of the Sadist?
Or is He nursing a hidden grudge?
If yes, I'm ready now for the grand plot twist
Come deliver me justice, stand as my judge

My lying words have scarred my tongue
These wounds still beg for mercy's balm
Your breath soothes where sorrow has stung
Come give me absolution, be my psalm

Without you a second feels like a year,
Do I deserve such cruel privation?
From you so far, even when near?
Come carry me out of hell, grant my salvation

This longing doesn't lie quiet for long,
I have to chain it tight and watch it suffocate
How much longer can I be this strong?
Come and unbind it, realise our fate

Our love is banished into dreams,
This waking life a bleak nightmare
Yet I again wake to your fleeting gleams,
Come and torment me, become my despair

Shamelessly and again I reach out,
Even when you return only silence,
I'm tired, alone and burnt out,
Come part your lips, speak my repentance

No matter the distance, no matter the years,
My soul will carry your memory each day
Burdened by sorrow, drowning in tears,
I will reach the end alone, show me the way.

No one will wait anymore—
Here, this silence hums its lonely hymn.
If anyone on this earth remembers the path you once took,
If anyone still hears the echo of the door you closed,
If anyone had stood beside you in that relentless rain—
That rain from a season long forgotten—
Will they return to find you here once more?

On the verandah, where evening moths swarm the fading light,
Or inside, as they reach for a half-forgotten tune—
When the fragile thread of melody suddenly snaps—
A withered petal will tremble, then fall,
Unraveling from their grasp like memory itself.

wishy washy
tumble tumble
turn the dryer on high
spin spin spin
round in circles
flip flap flop over over over over
turn
over
roll roll roll
face the other way
don't look
don't feel
that pain
reach reach stretch for something higher
something stronger
someone better

be my washer
be my dryer
be with
me