She held a red rose
Atop her breast,
Skin and path towards
Motherhood; desires,
Nearly hidden,
But a tempt, attempt,
Shrouded in satin.

Contrary to nature,
I left and let be,
The rose,
But not so subtle skin
So that she could dream
And dream for the both of,
“Us.”

As I’m tired,
So very tired,
Ever present atop an
Even all-knowing that –
There’ll come a time when
My wings tire
And this flight may cease.

She’ll either hold me
Or walk away
And so I wait;
Betting once more on empty,
Once more on, “away,”
And yet another
Suicide without ever dying.

it's enough, because it has to be.
the brush of your chest in us crossing paths.
the rhythm of your voice as it fills the room with every story you tell and every joke you crack.

and i can't falter this time.
enough is enough.
that's the key word here, isn't it?

enough.

enough of me feeding off every glance we catch each other in.
enough of me trying to fill the gory space in my chest with the days you had me believe i could be sane.

that's not who we are.
so stripped of sentimental views, seeing the world for it's rationality.
never it's emotion.

and my god, did i want to know what it was like.
to continue on into each day with another being who couldn't wait until i woke up.
who waited for me until i did.
and you peeled the armor from my skin, touched each scar and made a map.
"you are so strong, and i have never been under the hand of someone like you."

you believed in luck then.
even if it was short lived.

and maybe, just maybe,
before you left me in the claws of the shadows that were starved of my suffering you had pulled me from,

i believed, too.

It was a day in the village, like any other day
The sun was bright, the ground was baked.
A man came wandering down the dusty way -
His face was wrinkled, his clothes were soiled,
And under the big banyan tree he sat himself.
Seduced by the shade and weighed by fatigue
He fell fast asleep, with his hunger growling.
A farmer passing by felt pity for the man,
And left him a portion of his noon-day bread.

As the farmer dug deep, later on that day,
His barren field would yield a *** of gold!
In delirious disbelief, he took it to his wife.
The word spread like fire: near, far and wide.
A crowd soon gathered to envy and inquire -
“What did you do dear man, to deserve the ***?”
Thinking back to the events that day, he said -
“I gave an old man under the tree my bread.”
“He must be a wandering wizard!” they said.

The man awoke to see the bread, later that day.
Thankful and pleased he began to eat it away.
Soon it was gone, but his hunger still lingered
And it growled in anger  - “give me more bread!”
Just then he saw a mob approaching ominously;
“They'll lynch me, for they think I stole the bread!”
The mob duly arrived, but carrying more bread.
They jostled each other to solicit the old man -
*“Take my bread and give me a *** of gold instead!”

She wished his company,
admiring from far,
while leaving the door
to her heart ajar.

She wished to hear
the words he spoke
as she glanced at him,
that mysterious bloke.

She wished to walk,
matching his stride,
while in her mind,
her thoughts she did hide.

She wished for a friend,
for someone like him,
who was not fickle,
who didn't change by the whim.

The boon was granted
and he walked in.
Her heart, her mind,
her all he did win

He made her grateful
for the wish she wished
as by fate and by luck
she had been kissed.

Reached in and picked a winner
from your box of stock phrases.
Finding ways
to roll zero on 2d6.
You ******' missed
                        "**** the bed!"
I guess you're no Kenny Rogers.
Longer losing streaks familiar
to the wisdom of a betting man.

"Carpe Diem" on your calf,
laugh your way to the bank.
But put a stutter on your chuckle
'til the day they seize your wages.
If it "happens for a reason,"
fold your cards and hold your tongue in.
                           Hold your tongue and
                           clamp your teeth.

"What it is is what it is."
That's a "tautology."
They taught me that one in college,
when I took critical theory!
If you seek an explanation,
you're just critically faulting
                           on your dice rolls
                           and your debts.

Reached in and hit the bottom
of your box of stock phrases.
Finding ways
to keep afloat on empty words.
You ******' missed.
                           "Feeling blessed?"
Turns out you're no Kenny Rogers.
Longer losing streaks familiar
to the wisdom of a betting man.

I'm starting to feel less and less
oh your sad? I couldn't care less
I know I should be worried
No one else nor I care though

I'm falling out of love
less and less I love you each day
Eventually I will just disappear
I wonder if you will care then
..only the future can tell...

You were curious as to what lies in store
But when you started I was more curious about you
You were a natural
A talented and bright person
I was lucky to have taught you
But my luck ran out when you became far away

I could not believe my luck
To finally find a friend.
We could have taken on the world together,
I never wanted it to end.

Something had to come along and change it.
I know where we went wrong.
We both wanted to be in the same band,
But we both wrote differents songs.

We broke apart like clashing comets
Falling from out of the sky.
I guess inside I always knew
That I could never be your guy.

It wasn't that I lacked self-confidence.
It was not even that I felt shame.
We understood what the other meant.
But, the thing we wanted was the same.

I would have bet my heart on you.
But I could never live a lie.
For a while there, life was a party,
How the time flew by!

You drifted back into my world,
I was drifting far from mind.
About the time I was fragmenting,
Saturn was about to unwind.

Like a stone, I catapulted into the world.
I ricocheted liked a silver ball.
I was making up for lost time.
I would rise, then I would fall.

The colors melded hotly
As I did crash and burn.
The cynicism came with ease,
With every lesson I did learn.

I settled into my routine.
I cooled as I slowed down.
I looked you up to say hello,
And I miss having you around.

I cannot believe my luck.
That you still are my friend.
Sing your songs and tell me stories,
Like you did way back when.

and i stuck
with
flunking luck

upon
bridging sea
and down
*fishing terk