footprints lie; not the first,
    bound to this torrid thirst,
desperate to be quenched,
    though heath and meadow drenched.

knelt; cupping at puddles,
   the clumsy hand muddles,
disturbs the dirt and then,
    tainted water; once again.

full moon appears at night,
    reveals fate in its light,
beg the tides "refresh my cup",
    answered prayer. still looking up.

Another kiss on the cheek
like a bus it hit me
there is a first time
and a last time
for everything
blood lips after skin
with newfangled revenge
from the age of once to heaven
in a space
where winter gathers momentum
a man such as I
seeks a clean slate
for your kissered-become
are colder than pain
at a point far beyond zero
my heart must melt the blizzard
as my Love for you
muster upward
counting the years
your tears
my rain.
Then heaven I shall enter
albeit waiting on you
are solely in vain.

A hermit crab
In love with his bongo.
Scuffles on with his bongo beat.
Each thump filling the empty space
Around him.
He walks the hot concrete.
In search of something like home.
His shell dragging behind
Weighing him down.
The thump no longer loud enough
To move its tiny body.
The rhythm barely rattling around its
shell.
After a while everything can turn into a drag.
But still, he scuffles on.
He smiles, stopping to take a break
On the grass.
The concrete burning his feet.
His tiny claws scraping across the bongo.
He looks over to his left.
To find an old boot.
Nodding her head, tapping the ground
Following along to the beat.
Although weathered, she too smiled.
Echoing back his loud thuds.
Her sole cracked but full of life.
Life happens in the strangest way sometimes.
Two outcasts alone.
Drumming up stories without a word.
Scuffling on a bongo heart.
Life doesn't have to be a drag all the time.

in this flesh,
at its rawness,
inside these skins
and bones, all that I seek
and ever thirst for,
is peace.