she existed in the liminal spaces
between evening and night
a frosted marble statue
decorating the stone patio
in front of a white brick building
and she reaches out
her hands beckoning
any passerby
to spare her a glance
and a kind word
she existed in the liminal spaces
between love and apathy
a bright smile and blinding eyes
staring blankly into the shadows
in the corner of her favorite coffee shop
lifting her cup to her lips
a silent toast in my direction
telling me that
i did not go unnoticed
she existed in the liminal spaces
between your lips and mine
exchanging cold air cigarette smoke
between two lungs
like lovers
words dying as they hit
the cold november air
in the backseat of a yellow bus
and she breathes into the side of my neck
as i gather my thoughts into
words on my fingertips
and she tells me
he does not mind
she existed in the liminal spaces
between streetlights and mountain roads
hands on the worn leather wheel
screaming beautiful words
at the top of her lungs
she overlapped my melody
with her own
and in the pause between words
we switched effortlessly
gliding into the next verse
like practiced artists
and fated lovers
and the best of friends
we harmonized

The veins of the earth,     the rivers flowing,
the aspects of you     filling my spaces.

When she falls into sleep
Beside me every night,
I'm often haunted by
All the promises I made decades ago.
So easy to make when
Dark feelings were out of sight.
Since then I’ve broken
The locks on almost every door.

In newlywed bliss she was
Sleeping next to me one night.
Still in that distant land
She suddenly sat-up
On the edge of the bed
With her back facing me,  
Looking into the dark closet
Next to her side of the bed.
She called out my name several times.  

Already awake, I answered,
"What’s wrong?"

With back still turned,  
She answered,
"I’m not talking to you,
I’m talking to the other Danny."

As in a darkened closet
My darker-half was first revealed.
My love and I were newlyweds, but
In one year was the uniting of the pair.

Through all these years,
She has sensed with empathy
My loss of peace and spirit
And at least tries to fill-up
The deep, dark empty spaces
That are in the many chambers
Of my damaged heart and soul.

Only this depth of Love can,
In its ineffable heat, melt
Away all traces of impurity,
If you let it.
I have learned to let it.

The walls are a litter
of chaos layered upon
the anarchy of
spray painted letters;

Various styles of
dripping calligraphy,
silver lines spilling
their energy down
this hard word laden wall.

A lovely looping Y
is engraved in flesh tones
while the rest of the word
remains unknown
permanently obscured
by the intent of
newer artists.

I am awestruck
to the point of
an autistic response,
paralyzed by the
thick presence
of chipping paint
that flakes off
to take us back
to a blank canvass past.

Till, a swirling view
twirling through
enchants me to move.

My hands tremble,
reaching for the small breach,
longing to be swallowed,
absorbed, and added
to this discordant beauty.

Spaces and proximity
light through sleepless night
years we count
on hopeless time.

Here's a thing i love
to wait---the rain
we could not restraint
that pushed by gravity.

you are my devotion
ready to defend the
universe---
no matter how many times
it had destruct.

You can see this love
only once---
Our life overlapped
at one orbit line
i'll be with you
so take my time.

Blind nights
bright stars
i'll be there,
waiting for you
to tell
all too similar things.

Even in darkness she glows. She thunders on into the night.
She flows through me as I do her. She's a insatiable addiction and I know I need her more than she needs me.

And I know I can never leave her.

In the blink of an eye she chews up lives. Swallows hope and spits out pride.
And even as I breathe heavy she keeps pace with me.

She is pretty, my city. And she's mine.