You stir in your sleep
Sounds like fingertips on the piano
I’ve always wondered where you are in your sleep
But you never say
Just once you could take my hand
And we could sit on the windowsill
Our legs dangling poised jumping
Ready to tackle your dreams together
Lie on the grass in the middle of the night
And swim in the fresh dew
Look at the stars and feel how small we are
Then laugh
Smiling at the moon
Whistling the arriving daylight
Listening to old dusty records
While drinking coffee poured from the night sky
And you awake with a muffled hello
Bed head and bed breath
The dog jumps up and lies in between us
He knows he’s not allowed but we bend the rules just this once
I romp out of bed and roll to the shower
Dressing in my symbols of conformity
While you play mirror and straighten my necktie
You lean on the door frame and watch me drive away
We both know I’m just a writer at heart
We both know I hate my job
We both know I would love nothing more than to pick up guitar
And write you love letters while you watch
But sadly stationary doesn’t fall from the sky
And ink won’t flow from my pen forever
So I dream like you do in that secret place of yours
I dream

When you were young you were the King
The Woman King
And what a reign you had
Anything you wanted
You would pluck
Like an apple off a tree
And run it like rubies through your fingers
Their tears would beat them to the floor
Always a step ahead of your subjects
And two ahead of your rivals
Your throne could not be contested
A god to some
A devil to others
You thought of this as a game
The rules your own
Your life the wager
But with reward came risk
And a good King can spin risks into royalty
Everything in the world and you still wanted more
You needed more
You needed your Queen
But the Queen did not need you
She saw the rules
She understood the game
And you never thought two could play it
You never even put up your guard
And she had you on your knees
Crying to stop and begging for more
You offered her what you valued most
Your throne
And the Queen sat on your bruised back and smiled
*-I already have a throne

[a tired greeting]

-Hello, Mr. Douglass?

[a concerned response]

-Mr. Douglass, I…

[a question on well-being]

-Well, yes… yes Mr. Douglass that’s…that’s actually why I’m calling.

[an impatient plea]

-Mr. Douglass, please understand, there is absolutely no easy way for me to say…

[…]

-We’ve done everything we could do, Mr. Douglass, everything. Some things… some things just aren’t meant to be.

[a painful cry]

[a curse to God]

[a question to reality]

-Mr. Douglass, at the rate it spread… it was just too much. Mr. Douglass, frankly I am surprised she lasted as long as she did, but she was exactly what you said, a fighter until the end…

[a sob]

-Mr. Douglass, I…

[a wish to give up]

-Please don’t say that Mr. Douglass…

[a lost value in life]

-I know, I know… Mr. Douglass, you must realize this isn’t any easier for me either.

[how to rediscover that value]

-I’ll tell you what you have to live for Mr. Douglass. You have a son and daughter. Do you think orphaning your children is what she’d want? If you can’t do it for them, do it for her.

[love’s anger]

[a plea to end]

-…and what Mr. Douglass? Are you going to so quickly deliver yourself to the very thing she suffered for so long to avoid? You would become a monument of contempt for her struggle.

[life versus death]

-And she wanted to live Mr. Douglass… I'm sure she'd wish the same for you.

[hurried walking]

[incoherent mutterings]

[glass breaking]

-Please Mr. Douglass, please, calm down. It would be best if your children didn’t hear…

[fate’s morality]

-I know it is not fair Mr. Douglass. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my forty-six years at this institution it’s life is anything but fair. We were born by the grace of God. Unfortunately, he is an Indian giver…

[the impossibility to endure]

-It is times like this where all we can do is weep.

[the click of the chamber]

-No Mr. Douglass! Don’t do it!

[a quiet sob]

[teeth on metal]

-Wait Mr. Douglass, please! Her last request! At least let me fulfill her last request!

[jarring silence]

-She… she wanted you to hear her last words…

[falling tears]

-Mr. Douglass… she said,

please… please tell him… no matter what happens… no  matter… I will
always be there for him…

[gentle crying]

[…]

-Mr. Douglass? Mr. Douglass, are you there?

[…]

-Mr. Douglass!?!

[a smile]

When we walked up to the door of our favourite coffee pub
You tangled your fingers around my own
And with a twist of my wrist
We went in

We order our usual from the usuals
The baristas never changed though the drinks did with the seasons
As I pull out the exact change from my coat
You shake some melted snow from your hair

We grab a seat at a nook by the window
There was a ring of dried coffee on the table
I fill it in with my mug
You joke it’s my OCD but I say it’s my love for the unappreciated

We listen to a woman with a guitar at the makeshift stage
She strums off a couple chords and sings with her lips
She fades into the background as I turn to look at you
Your eyes are closed to turn up the volume

I close mine too and let the music direct me
My mind swims like a trapeze *******
I sway with the strings and strums
Your hand grasps mine as I fall into the safety net

The guitarist is packing up
Our coffee or what’s left of it is cold
You lean over and
Two angels kissed like sinners
Two sinners kissed like angels

We would run over the leaves and through the wood
Along the river listening to the cicadas buzzing
Branches jump up and grab us by the ankles
They cut like a razor as if the blood was a necessity
Brother cries out
This is the first time we were betrayed by something we loved
We trudge back with the sullen look carried by defeated children
Baby milk tears and red lines down our knees
Sitting on the porch wiping the salty water out of our eyes
Our bravery is all we could offer ourselves

Mother rushes out
A look of silent fury and a moment’s worry
Watches her sons and what they have done
A second of love’s anger only a mother could offer
Chuckles to herself as she kneels down to the children’s world
Her warmth on our bodies
Her touch on our idle tears
We are reminded of what it means to be alive again
A kiss on the forehead to both of us as she wipes away
The clean streaks off the dirt on our cheeks

-All better

The sky splashes with somber reds with the setting sun
Stars shine on with their life’s work
The moon keeps time as they flow into something beautiful
Green dots of fireflies join into the chorus in the backyard
Brother and I gather some jars
We want to record this music
Mother fusses with disapproval
We tell her not to worry
We have each other

Autumn sets down
Like a mother’s hand on her sleeping child
The leaves are starting to fall
Even trees get tired I suppose
The air gets cooler
The forest trails are littered with fallen leaves
Yellows reds browns
They jump off with commitment
Like a mass suicide
With the promise of coming back next year
You could learn a lot from their finality

A nice hot cup of tea
It’s too hot so it sits on the windowpane to cool
Daydreaming through the glass was always a hobby of mine
Shake them out before the tea gets cold
The first sip always hesitant
Let’s let the teabag steep more
It’s cloudy today but that isn’t surprising for this time of year
It looks like it might rain

Lying on the bed looking out the window
The sky looks like a tired old man
The falling light cuts more wrinkles across his face
The tree in the yard sees this too
Nearly all its leaves are gone
Leaving this world without a goodbye
Watching the wind blow
It pushes the last one off the branch
Sends it down with a blessing
Slowly tumbles down to Earth to join the rest
The tree stands naked now and yawns
I embrace this and listen
It’s getting dark
I yawn too and reach over to turn off the light

She said she was finished.
She just couldn’t take any more of this.
I was going nowhere and she was falling with me.
I wasn’t the same person she met long ago.
She said that person died and her life was the funeral.

She gathered her things.
To be honest I thought this was just a dream.
A bad dream, but reality ran her fingers down my back.
Dreams never hurt this badly.
It wouldn’t be wrong to say I was bleeding.

My thoughts poured out onto my floor.
Flushed from my head.
My tongue rowed against the current, but I couldn’t convince her to stay.
I don’t think God himself could’ve done that.
But to be fair, what have I ever done for him?

She screamed some more, just made more noise at me.
I just sat on the mattress, a place we used to share in times of friendship and then love.
Watched the tear drip to the floor on to the rug.
The rug was a strange colour, something between Frootloops and *****.
It’s even stranger how one notices these things at times like this.

She called herself a fool and me something far more hateful.
She cursed me, stomped me flat out, I was gasping for air.
I begged for her to see me through to the end, I would do the same for her.
She looked up, her mascara was running and she was silent.
The broken glass from the picture frame she threw said it all.

She finally finished packing her things.
It took a small eternity for her to stuff the small luggage.
She grabbed her coat and started to put it on.
She pulled her arms through the sleeves.
The sound of it reminded me of gunfire.

It’s funny how time flies when you’re having fun but misery will drag it on for years.
The world seems to be built on ironies like this.
It almost makes me believe God has a sense of humour.
I cried as I heard the punchline.
Too bad it wasn’t “haha” funny.

It was finally quiet, well, except for the pounding of my heart.
I got up and walked to the window to watch.
She turned and faced me for the last time.
Her ruined makeup, hair was a mess.
What have I done.