The pain sharp
Memories raw
Delightful joy so true
The feelings fighting in my soul
Call me back to you

As love's presence fades
To its relics I return
Reminding and rekindling
The passion that once burned

Yet

You're long gone
No going back
Time cannot reverse

All that's left
To soothe the soul
Is putting love to verse

I exist in his lower lip,
and upper teeth.

I exist in the way he used to say my name,
twisted and voluptuous.

I exist in the shade of his black curtains,
the last breathe of his cigarette,
and the slow sip of his drink.

I exist in the backseat of his car,
3 a.m sharp on his wrist watch,
and every knock on my bedroom door.

I exist in the sake of our past,
in every attempt of forgetting him without losing myself,
but I do not exist in his memory.

Me-

Did I smile?
Did i laugh without tears, did I shout, and screamed with no fear,
Did I dance? Did I pretend I am okay?
I am forgetful sometimes, so please remind me of my pain....

God-
Did you miss me?
Did you see me in the stars,
Did you see me, as  I looked on the other side of the road, past the cars.
Did you see me, smiling from the moon, did you see me, warming you up at noon?
Did you see me, in between the leaves, did you see me as I danced while you're asleep....
Did you see me, as I shut your eyes.
Did you see me, as I kissed you from up high...as I sang a lullaby...

He has a spot beneath his ribcage.
I often find myself touching the soft skin that dips on his body.
He can be so ******* me yet his lips are soft.
He has gentle caring eyes.
Murky.
Never have I seen a set of blue as amazing as his.
Sometimes the gap in his teeth can be sighted between his pink lips.
And I know he thinks he is ordinary.
But I want him to know he is beautiful.
And like no other person I've ever known.
He will not let me love him.
I know he doesn't believe when I say the words.
He doesn't want to.
I show him by touching the scruff on his delicate face.
I show him by asking for one more kiss even when he is tired and agitated.
I'll always desire his presence and his skin on mine.
He will not let me love him.
Yet I do

Every time I get to see your bright smile
It makes my heart glow with hundreds of happy lights
I wish I was able to spend more time in your presence
Sometimes miss your laugh on quiet nights

And even when we have not talked in weeks
I do not feel distressed, down, or blue
The warming touch of memory
Brings back all the things I love about you

.
One day at a time
swings the pendulum;
only love awakens senses
too ephemeral to be restrained,
like the magic of a phonograph stylus
in a vintage vinyl groove
and the sensual touch
      of skin so new

It's not easy to watch
a flock flying away
      in the distance,
seeing the expanse beyond
reach of a wandering mind;

      heed distracted
      by the slow sway
of the treetops hypnotic careen

Doves dive on feathered canter,
      silent as the winged wind,
broke free from the gravity
      befallen the weight
            of the world
                                                
      Look­ing up wondering
            beyond the sky,
         the passing clouds
            crawl across
palliating the dusk hazed horizon

Synchronicity transcends across
an immeasurably deep river chasm,
      into a wordless abyss
      ensconced unthought
              between
        here and there

Silent silhouettes
            glide across
      the valley void below,
            wings to the sky

and, if you listen to a moment breathe,
            you can hear
                  the silent peace .............

you can feel the prevailing wind's direction
            blowing through your soul


             Jesse Stillwater
            December 2017

You are there in air
rustling in leaves
whooshing in sonorous song
chiming in wind among the trees.

Even here on this silver screen
you beam key to key bouncing
exciting protons making small creatures
one character at a time.

You even whisper so quietly
in the daily hum of my life
I rarely hear or notice
the strong power of your love.

How can I miss the soft sound
hiding in the passages of my day
in my every breath
you traveling freely
in every molecule of my being?

I need to try harder
second to second
to listen first
to the sibilant sound
of you tiptoeing
in the background
your acoustic presence
in every step I take
every noise I make
every thought I conceive
you never never leave
me here or anywhere alone.

Sometime you seem nearly silent
until you roar back in the hymns
I can hear if I but listen
for you in the voices
of strangers, enemies and friends.  

You seem invisible
until I open my eyes
to you there in the creases
frowns and smiles
of every person I pass.

You are a symphony
and its composer
I can encounter
if I pay the coin of my attention
in the small moments of my day.

This day I hope
I can wake up
to the holy
all around
in every sight
in every sound
in the silences
tucked away
in between.