Don't make of your wife
Your home decor article.
Let her be
Your sun that
Never stops shining.
Be her  moon.

Random pillows,
piled on a chair.
Different sizes,
different fillings.
Red, yellow,
plain, some with flowers.
Life’s a pile,
different stories
different looks.
Each is different
but each the same.
Each lies waiting
for that hand to
change their fate.
Like pillows in a pile
waiting, always waiting.

You looked at me
And wanted to see her,
But I wasn’t her
And that was my beauty.

He was always too good to me,
I never understood
why he let me take all,
that I possibly could.
so in my sleep and when I wake,
my heavy heart still tends to ache.
For him and me and all I feel,
for worlds we contrived,
convinced they were real .
Now in sorrow and insight,
sickness and pain,
sleep or insomnia,
with guilt and with shame:
I admit to defeat and begin my descent,
both feet in the air and face on cement,
All the damage is done now- how I'm alone but I'm free-
how no one compares,
He was too good to me.

How can we be found
If were not lost

I love to wake up and see you
I love to wake up and hear you

Your smell in my hair
Your taste on my tongue

I want to spend every day near you
Sunrises and sunsets are the best

But, I hate the feel of the sand on my body
I sunburn too quickly
I am not a strong swimmer

This is my sad love affair with the ocean!

Dancing, you are Spring;
Birds flock to see your song, yet
Night falls and silence-

Silence but for the
Stars and moon who mock us in
Our bed, our Winter.