black skies stretch
in darkness, the clouds
dissolve into rain,
the night is lacquered
with varnish like
a wooden floor,
shiny and surreal -

it breathes of night
bird and the magnolia
light of the moon, quivers
and then is still, wraps us
in the mirrored waters of the stars.

the moon elevates
the night from darkness to
hypnotic light, bathes
the world in silver, flows
with our tears and our
softly spoken words,

transcends like lazarus
to a sky witnessed
through centuries,
loved and worn like
our favourite old clothes.

I'm waiting, chasing pavements
the ones that kissed your tires
impatience found my failures
and lit my head on fire.
My mind is racing to you
my eyes are burning still
these smolders send me skyward
and flatten me until
I'm falling on my doorstep
gray and less than real
you crush me as you're leaving;
my sweet achilles heel.
You left me calm resilience
a scent I can't erase,
rose petals drooping gladly
I sink down in the vase
and ponder you, like fresh air
willing me to breathe
and be with you again
as if you'd never leave.

Love is not fire.
It burns, in the beginning,
to be sure
but
fire is not sustainable
like love.
Love is crescendo and
plateau,
it is passion and quiet comfort.
I have loved you since you put
red in my cheeks
and tears in my eyes,
and I love you still
now that you are my rhythm,
my heartbeat.
The beauty of it all
is
as the summer cools into fall,
I still mean every word I’ve said
and you
have never been less beautiful
than the first sunrise
we burned beneath
and now
you are my patience
in the pitch black nights
we spend apart
easing peace between my breaths
with the knowledge that
you’ll be there,
on the horizon,
like clockwork
always.