pink
kimono
opens
slowly

out toward the west
last vestiges of day light
slowly reclined

The path ahead is unclear
the first few steps seem fine
(as fine is redefined by times)
beyond is cowled in green gloom
with definition hidden
but enticing

We pause and breathe
ask feet to tentatively tread possibilities
for surer surface

The line ascribed
by timeless river run
seems safe
and the possibility of kingfishers
is a draw indeed

But we have seen these river banks
lost to inundation
and irresistible weight

To realise this too late
would be fatal

so we collaborate in waiting
and make the call

Death would make a dark valentine
I'll join your hand with mine
Midnight strikes
Our skin will meet
Over a road made with sheets

Together we will take it slow
Step-by-step
Taken by shadows that are forever kept
Water's slowly rising
Instead I'm learning to swim
In our beliefs
Treading with limbs

Splinters thoughts
Negative energy
Scattered about too many places to see
Pressure wracks my consciousness with unuttered questions
Mix of doubt and adoration broken into sections

Ruins moment with cold insecurity
Fights desperation
Winning barely
Aroma of chocolate wafts through the air
Breathe clarity and briefly my senses are thankfully aware

I slowly blend surroundings until it's all a blur
Wandering
Table decked with items you prefer
To show you how much your love means to me
All that shows is the success we'll never be

I don't think I bloomed
I think my roots got deep.
But I didn't grow
I have to keep it all buried and not let it show

Cradled by there eyes
as they convulsed me
                  in to oblivion,

with every downfall I was
closer to
              nihility.

Pools of crimson collected in
   my fractured sockets and
my tears
                       drowned within.


They mourned my silence,
       inscribing one last syllable
upon my stomach...
As blood flourished forward from
                                  my dead lips.

Droplets were like rain descending,
as I painted the surrounding
                                           with death.
They were covered also,
for they were close to the cradle
                          when it fell silent.

I kissed each one with claret,
     my mark was upon there façade.

Wild flowers drank upon me,
       seeding them with my last breath.
Where beauty once flourished,
Now blushed roses grow.

I'm a garden of remembrance
to what was,
                    what never shall be.

But my death has sweet aromas to it,
       for all one at a time came to see
What had befallen me.
              Guilt, remorse or curiosity..

To hide a truth, others may fall upon.

But where they expected death,
                                     they saw,
a sight of maroon beauty.

"Curiosity is a  live wire in water,
            with a please read note floating
above it.

           "*You know there going to read it,

And with that, they picked a rose pricking
there finger upon my vengeance.
I could ******* aura that I kissed upon
there last actions
                             so long ago.

There was no scream, just like you can't hear
             a tree fall in a silent forest.

I now feed upon them, for there all here, in
my garden of eternity rotting slowly..
   But there still alive under the surface..
my thorns negating there vocals.

       I'm there cradle and I'm rocking it,
                                      oh so slowly...

And I'll run until I can't remember
the weight of your hands on my hips
until I can smell your shampoo
and not wish to run my hands through your hair.

I'll run until I forget
what it was like to stand still and be held
so close to your beating heart.
Until that afternoon
where I was pinned underneath you
fades completely from my memory.

Yes, I'll run and scream and fight
until I can walk beside you
without a heart of lead carving ruts in my wake
without casting glances
and admiring your beauty.
I will rage and burn
until I can see a bougainvillea
without immediately hearing your voice;
your careful singing in my shower,
your laugh, your low, stolen whispers.

And I'll keep weeping and wishing
that there were no kisses to forget,
no notes to burn or keep,
no flowers that crumble in my grasp,
no shirts that smell like you,
no jigsaw hollows where you still fit perfectly.
Wondering how long it will be
before the songs don't make me think of you
before the kitchen is just the kitchen
and my bedroom is just a bedroom.
                               before I fulfill your wish
                               and we are just friends again.

Friends who once snuck off,
held hands,
talked at midnight,
shared a bed (albeit only once)
shared favorite memories,
played guitar in the dark,
laughed at their own shy ways,
almost kissed,
almost became more.

Almost made it.

I will grind myself to dust,
if only it makes it easy to swallow
the bitter break of a first love,
a stolen heart, returned only to shatter
in my grasp. We hugged quickly, spun apart
when all I wanted is to cry and hold you
the way a dying man clings to the lifeboat.