My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.

Here I stand upon this stop,
It's my ritual every day,
With all the other zombies,
Tired and looking grey,

The thought of public transport,
Irritates my brain,
As the bus arrives at my stop,
Packed like a commuter train,

The usual faces look away, 
Thinking please don't sit with me,
I park my **** upon their bags,
I pretend I didn't see,

The huffing and the puffing,
People late for work,
The woman sitting next to me,
Thinking...he's an effing ****,

Trying not to look at her,
Or the hairy man in front,
I look at the condensation,
As her elbow gives a shunt,

Getting up from my seat,
Needs balance and an awkward grin,
The bus brakes late upon this stop,
As she heels me in the shin,

My eyes welling up,
As I let out a massive ****,
The poor old lady gags,
Pulling up her winters scarf,

Embarrassed by my actions,
I pressed the button quick,
The odour travelled up my nose,
I think that i'll be sick

Fighting past the commuters,
Trying to get some air,
I knew it was too late....
Throwing up on some ladies hair,

So now I drive to work,
Past the Bus Stop that she waits,
We are married with two children,
Some people call it fate,

This silent choice you've made  
Is hung in the shape of a willow tree
Branches intertwining around my bruising flesh
Twisting and churning into a leafy cage from you to me  
Yes
I've noticed it

And I scream out to try and get your attention again
To try and get you to look into my eyes like you once did
My 3 a.m. bloodshot eyes
Which drive you further away with every thin line of red across their glassy surface
But in daylight well disguised
Dressed up in paper jokes and drawn on smiles
That burn my flesh to put on and take off  

And What kind of melodrama is this?
This dull story
Perhaps any excuse to not be happy will do me
You amongst many the piece to my puzzle
Or maybe
this is simply a poignant reminder of the time we have lost together

273

He put the Belt around my life
I heard the Buckle snap—
And turned away, imperial,
My Lifetime folding up—
Deliberate, as a Duke would do
A Kingdom’s Title Deed—
Henceforth, a Dedicated sort—
A Member of the Cloud.

Yet not too far to come at call—
And do the little Toils
That make the Circuit of the Rest—
And deal occasional smiles
To lives that stoop to notice mine—
And kindly ask it in—
Whose invitation, know you not
For Whom I must decline?

Wide mouth mason jar
To capture the loneliness,
Her hands remain still.

how can you enjoy if endings are all you think of?
i dont know,
i guess i never thought
of cherishing every moment
i never thought of having fun
maybe because
i want
hard
painful
destructive*
love

since you already reminded me,
i am going to love you
like i have never been broken