Hide your dark fantasies
Because here we may never speak
I had a piece of you once but that piece has changed;
Though not yet twisted enough as to be corrupt;
It it not that part of you I remember now

You were once mine, my strange friend
But while dappled light now streaks my memories
They appear as fictitious as the smile you flash me.
I do not trust you to betray me
But less so do I believe those soft words you speak with a tongue I know to be sharp

It does not seem that time has passed between us
And the oft-forgotten thought that we are not who we used to be
Does not entertain my musings as much as one might imagine
But despite my distractions I still do not believe in true love, or fate, yet I believe
That everything happens for a reason

It was not attraction that drew me to you but it is fascination that keeps me ensnared
And you, with your girls, pay me no heed
But I can see the truth of who you are,
See your badly hidden lonely intentions
I see the harsh reality of who you are
From the depths of my waltzing imagination.

With passing days queued up
          for the forecast foreseeable
Tuck into the routines' reserves
          deplete when permissible

Shot through the feet
          with what we can't forget
run on through the limp
          past the end of the sentence
                                             and sit
                         In the glow
                  remain undeveloped
                  stay unreconstructed
                  drop the curtain
                 on scenes interrupted

Dot your i's
          with up-slanted slash marks
sparks fill my eyes when
                            I read through your retorts
Blank page.
                                                        Blank page.
A waltz through a minefield
reeling jigs over headstones
          when digging through
           plain white lines

The geometry of perfection
An equation of stars
Constellations spinning
Rhythmically to a melancholy
Melody written in the language
Of the essence of being

A brief connection that spans
Ages and draws together
The centuries since past
In reverent bravado
Wordlessly etching a memoir
Into a stately marble floor

Stumbling into grace
Like sudden elegance found
After a third glass of rose cabernet
Untaught steps mastered in
Moments engulfed in an
Overwhelming sense of pose

The dance of dances
A most classic and romantic
Masterpiece of body
Music and mind
Scripted by the soul
A renaissance of heart

a sophisticated
dance, in the
empty ballroom,
at ten pm,
while everybody
else is drunk in
the next room,
we are dancing,
sober and alive,
*for the first time,
ever.