the heaviest thing i’ve ever encountered
was the silence that hung low between
hovering bodies
—a weight bearing down on shoulders so worn
and chests so tight.
breaths quivering as fists shut, withdrawn of
any life and color.

the silence spoke volumes, it whispered
things that need not be said out loud.
the silence reminded you of the distance
that had grown over the course of time,
of the changes that took place but were
being cast aside for either one’s vanity.

this silence bore down on strained necks and
crooked spines. it demanded recognition.
but nobody wants to acknowledge
the obvious when the silence is telling you
it’s time to let go.

—210126; when silence becomes the loudest thing in the room, it’s best to acknowledge it and to take it for what it is

Sitting with you is
The best part of my day.

The smell of some
****** light blue American Spirit
Hangs over us in a fog.

You’re talking philosophy
At me, and I’m leaning
Back against a tree
Blowing smoke at the sky.

You are everything that
I have been looking for.
I know you’re not just mine,
But sometimes I like
To pretend that you are.

show me your art and i’ll show you mine,
tell me of your past, give me your time,
let me heal your scars with everything that i say,
just hold me close and ask how was my day.

hr.

other people defined love but she said,
"love is remembering the first time and how
you fall in love with that person,
everyday and even on the tough times.
it's not supposed to be a battle,
for love gives and understands.
it's waking up each day grateful
for love and your person;
whom you never wish to part from
to find your worth somewhere else."

IA

Gossamer draperies swell
with heat, eastern winds
push daylight
over tangled bodies.

Fingers travel up
and down your naked torso,
my hand caught suddenly
in yours as you stir,
a sleepy god awakened
by the warmth of morning.

Your body, a sundial,
keeps perfect time with mine;
two lovers cached in silken strands,
our sacred place now fully lit
with the hunger of summer.

The solstice lingers past its prime,
drifting over equator
and into southern skies
as autumn patiently waits
outside the bedroom door.

i wanted to love
like we were gods
at the beginning of the world

but there was something in our
sweet mortality.
i wanted to kiss his temples
and pulse points.
there was something about that
vulnerability,
so human and fragile.
i want to bask in just how
fleeting and temporary
we are because,
it makes our love so sacred

hr.

She glides through city blocks at noon
hair coming undone as she goes
I'm drunk from drinking her perfume
I wonder if she even knows

One thousand lovers gather in
beside her, pulling at her sleeve
but vanish when the tears begin
Not me, though, I will never leave