"Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

Her voice is soft,
sweet,
almost innocent,
and adds an aphro-ambiance,
to the incessant crash of the ocean waves in the background,

her pleading eyes,
intercept my retreating lies,
it can be so hard to argue with the truth.

I am all out of excuses,
as we lay naked as the day we were born,
in this bed at this beachside bungalow in Baja,
clouds gathering outside for the coming post sunshine storm,

two tainted souls,
in a rare moment of purity,
as we lay there I can not lie here,
I can not tell her I will see her again,
I can not tell her everything will be okay,
I can not tell her I love her,
at least not in the same way,
as she loves me,
which of course is unconditionally,

we’ve just made love,
and as she’s mentioned,
possibly for the last time,
and though she wants to make love again and again,
until we both grow old,
wants and realities can compete in this existence,
and in this moment is where they both meet,

“Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

she asks me again,
shaking me from the depths of my thoughts,
she pulls my submarine from the dark depths,
and shakes me out to dry in the sunlight of her attention,
her question,
comes with a hint of offense,
honestly no offense was meant,
at least not from me,
it’s not that I was ignoring her in that moment,
at least not completely,

it’s just that it’s difficult for me to stay in the moment,
when the past keeps dragging me back,
and the future keeps pushing me forward,
and there’s a needy media monster that doesn’t want to be ignored,

where were,
we,
where have we gone,
and what has become,
of the innocence in which we were born?

We lay,
naked as the day we were born,
in this bed at this beachside bungalow in Baja,
clouds gathering outside for the coming post sunshine storm,

nothing covering our skin,
except a thin layer of post *** perspiration,
for even though the sun has already set,
the humid heat still sits there,
like the soon to be cloud covered moon,
that hangs lazily in the sky,
seeming neither amused nor moved by our human drama.

Her question,
is reasonable enough,
and she is,
beautiful enough,
so why,
when she asks,
“Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,
can I not say yes?

Well,
for one,
I respect her too much to lie to her,
plus lying to such an honest question,
would seem so taboo,

reason number two,

they say,
we do not choose love,
they say,
love chooses us,
and I do not love her,
even though I may want to,
I do not love her,
because she is not the one Love had decided to choose,

I do not love her,
as amazing as she is,
even if I should love her,
for she is everything a mortal man could ask for,
she is,
a gorgeous and successful model,
with a sharp and receptive mind,
a big heart,
and maybe most importantly,
an undying devotional love for me,
so logically,
I should love her,

but love is not logical,
love is as passionate and irrational,
as the weather here in Baja,
one moment shining bright with clear skies,
the next moment dark and ominous with gathering clouds,

so when she asks me,
“Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

I simply say nothing,
for what can I say,
how can I explain the irrational,
how can I say the one word,
that will break her heart open,
then watch that heart break right in front of me,
how can I say “No”,
to the one question,
that the girl that has said “Yes”,
to my every question,
asks me?

So I say nothing,
I simply open this writing book,
as these skies open above us,
and write down these thoughts upon these pages,
as the desert rains fall down upon us,

I write this poem,
as we lay naked as the day we were born,
in this bed at this beachside bungalow in Baja,
as the incessant crash of the ocean waves in the background,
adds to the aphro-ambiance,
of this bittersweet moment in time,
so that even when I am gone,
and she is gone,
and we are gone,
these words,
from these thoughts,
will live forever,
immortalized in this verse,
forever resting,
somewhere in the collective psyche,
of our unified broken hearts,

as we lay there,
as we mutually mourn,
all that has been loved,
and all that has been lost,
in this impermanent moment called Life,

and she asks,
"Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

To everything there is a season
Am I ready to let go?
Romantic v. Voice of Reason
What I feel and what I know.

Muddled by my cogitations
Such a lack of clarity
Yearning for the old sensations
Held back by uncertainty.

I can’t reach a destination
Magnetised, my compass tilts
Time for a new incarnation?
Banish hangups, hurts and guilts

Feelings reconciliation
Pay a penny, spin the dial
Out spits the determination
Leave your heart to mend a while.

i swear my heart mimics
the crescendo of the ocean’s tireless hum
and i am overcome with both solace and grief in knowing that my own rhythm will fall in defeat long before the waves ever stop crashing into the shore

Under a shadowed bower
Of olive green scented leaves
I fall into morose reflection
As the heart grieves
For a love that was barely begun

For there was a time of you and me
In summer fields of broken hay
Where we spent our childhood years
Dancing amongst butterflies at play
And laughter came before the tears

How brief those hours in the sun
Before clouds gathered over the summer day
And a letter arrived at your door
I can still see the words pulling you away
A call for country, a call for war

I remember the day I said goodbye
There were no promises given
A brief hug, a touch of a hand
Then the train steamed out of the station
Taking you away to a distant land

For a year we kept in touch. Though
Letters were few and far between
I remember how the ink was smeared
On paper that had once been clean
Then the last, the last that came
Words written strong and unfeared

I opened the letter, to find crushed
Petals, placed between each page
A memory of our sweet meadow summer
While around you a war continued to rage
Words written, as if love would give you armour

Your body came home soon after
Your time with me frozen, as you were laid
To rest under branches of an old summer tree
I bring flowers each day, so the scent won’t fade
A reminder of summer, and you and me

Silver icicles gleam.... scattered in the snow
   like the kind you had on your Christmas tree when you were a kid

what happened last night

she left with him

Valentines wrapping paper in shreds

       I step barefoot out on the balcony
                               in the frigid morning

I light a smoke and do a shot to clear my head

and then I remember a note she gave me...…

      "sometimes if I listen close I can hear your eyelashes curl when you sleep"

R.A. Ries (c) 1994

your cousin is engaged
you hadn't seen it yet
the sad song plays
you haven't answered my text

the tears are hot
the room is melting
the song is screaming
you say you understand

can you say it again with feeling?

I don't have a filing cabinet,
I've emptied all the drawers;
Lugged it through my clearing house,
Then gleefully through the  door.
The **** thing's out for pick up.

Each drawer was filled with files:
Insurance forms for cars and bikes,
Gone this long while;
Health receipts for healthy lives,
Warranties and refund lies,
Transcripts from a former life,
Lesson plans and records,
Some pics of you and me.
All shredded, bagged and tightly tied,
And ready for the street.
I'm finding some relief.
If only I could do the same
With memories of you.

Isn’t this confusing?

To be a hopeless romantic

Searching for your twin flame

Curving the mundane

To find The one whom is equally yoked

I'm Lost and wandering

In what once was
familiar territory

But this open space has

Transformed itself into battle grounds

I'm sparring viciously for one's attention
Because there are women

That are willing to lose their identities

To faces with no name

And are often times too eager to spread
Fibia bones to avoid the vacancy in their beds

And then there's me;

Attracting men

That only latch onto women for therapy
Refusing to take responsibility for their own healing

Claiming a Queen as his property

Because he fails to have control over his own life

and i have learned how to adapt in this chaos
Forcing to close myself off

From the one thing I've wanted so badly