Still water
resting
at the
bottom
of a
Pacific ocean
tide
pool,

reflections
of you
in my
mind
in the
Sunday
morning
light.

sometimes
I can imagine
I hear you
laughter
carried in
harmony
to me
on a
a salt-kissed
circling
wind.

and I
sit for
a moment
and smile.

I always
smile.

it is
a giving
thing that
you do.

your gentle
manner
of truth
and innocence.

I can always
feel it
there in
you eyes...

you are


where
good  poets
go to
die.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

i'm a little older now,
a little less naive.
there used to be
more colour
to my dreams,
but now there's just
a residue
of chances that i missed,
forever lost in time.

i'm a little smarter now,
a little less surprised
when people leave;
no heartbreaks,
no goodbyes.
and now i'm just
collecting lies
from strangers that i kissed,
one sparkle at a time.

i'm a little older now,
a little less naive.
sometimes i see
their faces
in my dreams,
but now they're just
a residue,
a taste upon my lips,
forever lost in time.