The beryl high land smoulders….

Where skinny manes of cloven trailing, cuff
the rake of jumbled scree,
a porous crux of timbered carol
matins from the mossy shrine
to urchin on the bluff and draft
in nooks of birch and bilberry.

On that high dais, Corvid tribals
potter on the reeks of gale.
Fell boatman of the troubled storeys
quarter in some sleet cabal
to throw their onyx gauntlet down
a slating arc of fallow sky.

We love each other
We say it
And mean it all the time
I love you so much
And I know you love me
But I love you a little differently
I love you just a little more
Were we love each other for the people we are
I also love you in a romantic way
I treat you almost as if we are dating
You let me do it all the time
You don't see a problem
But I unfortunately do
I don't always mean to do it
I really don't
But you don't mind
And I let you do the same
We walk down the street
You put your arm around my waist
I sit on the couch and play on my phone
You come put you head on my lap and talk about your thoughts
I put my feet in your lap
And you massage them
I eat something
And almost feed you some
You sit on the porch
I know you want to talk
We do so many things
We are so very close
And you don't see it
You only see platonic love
You think this is what friends do
I know that its not normal
I know that I should stop before I get too deep
But it feels so comforting to put my legs on yours
Its nice when you and I talk about anything
I love when its just you and me just being
I should stop this weird situation
Not separate completely
Just stop acting like we're a couple that doesn't kiss
Not get out of our friendship or stop our meaningful talks
Just let go of the fantasies of us holding hands
Not cut you out of my life
Just not be so close
Because as comfortable as it can be
Platonic dating *****

There is a place
In  evergreen wiles
A permanent perfect                  
of boundless dimension,
I tarry untrying in idles of hours
Lost in the halls of this subtle domain


Walk with me there
To where willows thirst
On the banks by the bridge
Where cowslip with meadowsweet
Polka the pasture to pepper
The evening with notes of the rain



Gather me in-

-There,hold me in harvests
Of memory loved,- as when
  You turned your face

To the lights on the water

and smiled the glory of day into shame.