I’d never noticed the
Freckles
On your
Shoulders.
But then again,
You’d never noticed
The scars.

Specifically
The ones
On my chest,
And if you had,
I’d never
Heard
Anything about them,
Or, “it.”

It had been awhile since we’d
Last crossed paths,
Encounters always
Ending in
Collision,
Connection
And corrosion come the first
Morning after; but welcomed.

You looked good though,
And that’s how it’d always
Started,
But beautiful nonetheless  –
A world-weathered skin
In the form of a twilight tan,
The vulnerable smile
With a small curl displaying

Aggressive sexuality,
And a dress, your cloth,
A critical juncture,
Of both cinema and satori,
A’flutter in the wind.
“Gift-wraps,” aside,
I’d always return to the
Form and curve of “You.”

Simply you
The half I could see
Leaving the other
Somehow elusive side of
You
To my imagination and
Memory
Of prior gallantry.

Unspoken words
Pave paths between the
Tables we now occupy.
So to,
Acts of predation await,
Perched and ready for
Gardens,
Accepted, the resulted chaos.

I wonder,
“What’s she thinking?”
As I capture a wink
And steal the sunlight
Bouncing of her
Shoulder’s freckles.
It’s an intoxication
At its finest.

Accordingly,
I sip my
Beer
And in echoes mumble,
“I want you, want you,
Want you.”
Luckily,
You wanted me too.

Thunder rolls in, booming out of nowhere
Disturbing the otherwise clear blue July sky
Just as suddenly as those clouds rolled in
Overhead the heavens broke
Sending rain plummeting to Earth with fruition
An aero plane flies overhead, loud engine roar trying to compete with the ominous thunder clashes
Wind dancing with the trees
Nothing pauses for the rain
The city doesn't come to a halt
Only me, sitting alone on my front stoop
Inhaling the scent of nature
Feeling the cold against my skin, ruffling up my hair
I was born for days like this
I live to become part of the storm

If I'm the last white cloud at sunset
You're the morning hue of the sky (orange-red).
If I'm the concentrated chaos in my eyes
You're the mirthful flash of your pearly whites.
If you're the cool blue pool in summertime
I'm the orange orange (which doesn't even rhyme).
We're poles apart, you and I
But once in a while we see eye to eye
And the space in which our gaze meets
Is as close as I'll be to infinity.

My being craves a sun so vibrant
an unwinding summer
for my wilted heart anew
Heat that gives the air such humid kisses
leaving it stifling, sweet, and sticky
Rays of fiery gold
that pierce my cold, pale, and weathered skin
Rushes of warm air flowing over my body
heating me up
burning my skin
melting away my makeup
and carrying away the emotions
that I wear on my sleeve
My heart is eager
to be naive, carefree, and open
I long to be freed
to burst like an overripe plum
These walls I’ve built up
are ready to fall

Dreamt of driving down
that old back road in summertime
looked like a country song
I smell the warm air
I said, "This looks just like home."
Insisted, "This is just like home."
Even in my dreams
I know
                    *I need to come home.

I do not know how long this summertime will last
or for how long these roses will bloom.
I do not know for how long we
can put off the winter of our lives.
I do not know the answers to any of these questions.
All I know is that with you by my side
I will weather through these withering winds
and travel down the path of demise.

How long can we battle the darkness of winter?
With my soul strengthened by yours,
forever my Darling. I will fight
and fight the recessing sun  
and still kiss every wrinkle  
and curve of this wilting rose.
As our blood turns to ice,
I will fight and toil.
I will face winter and its wrath
to keep you here with me.
As summertime morphs into winter
I will fight so our souls will combine and
transcend this material world,
so that when winter comes
I face it with you.