Today, after many days,
I missed you.
Every moment of the day,
I searched for your presence.
My heartbeats searched,
for the sound of your footsteps.
You know, the kind of missings
that happen when you are used to,
a presence just being there.
Not talking, not doing anything,
But just being. In the same room,
same house, same hearts.
It's been a long time.
But I missed you.
Longed for you.
Pined for you.
Smiled for you.
Cried for you.

I could still, even today,
remember your touch,
your scent, your voice,
your smile and your feel.

But how long will this remain,
as two souls, miserable,
without each and other?

And there will be many more such days,
where you and I will dearly miss each other.
Only to remain apart, forever.

We spark
the kindling in ritual
as souls dance around us;
our bonfire keeps them at bay.
They never stray,
hoping to hold us, hug us,
whisper missings and tidings of comfort
to steady our bones for passage.

We wait
on rotting logs, gazing toward dawn,
entranced by flames and huddled together,
closely, with wet-iced eyelashes.
Our silent breathing scuttles away
on paths of pale white and moist,
out and sifted through our watchers' chests.
Their voices go unheard.
Who would hear conversation
from depths during an eve of fright?

We watch
the orange-red idol wane in the wind.
Odd, no? Shouldn't it be growing?
They're breaking though to us
so we embrace more closely,
latching, heartbeats bumping one another
keeping rhythm, keeping our stillness,
and fevered hands massage our shoulders,
erasing tensity, stiff limbs, lightness.

Smoke escapes our eye sockets
and they smile at our blankened faces.
Who are these people celebrating?

~

That barren branch
high above this desolate space
Crooked shade designs on a dying earth
Bent and twisted of past sunlight reach
Naked to the green-less world
Rough hewed collections
Of ant trail pathways
And rot of all that was good

Once filled with life, happy on the breeze
Summer fashions of leaf pattern wishes
Colors of blissful post card greetings
Bearing fruit of friendlier times

Now rests in solitude’s wicked grip
Knotted and splintered bark winding
to a tapered end of winter’s calling
Cold fingers on gray-cast skylines
Dying of desperate missings
Fading into a bleak sunset
Disappearing somewhere beyond the dark
That barren branch…is me

I ******* miss you
and I miss ******* you
with cold blue eyes
leaving me broken and bruised
Winterfresh stares
and you in my periphery
I miss you
even when I look at you
because we both know
I never had a chance
Leading me on like you do, boy, oh
Leaving me, “get along, girl, no”
I miss you smiling
I miss you breathing
I miss you I miss you I miss you
And I could tear these words apart
And slip my missings in between
But nothing
will fill this murmur in my heart
Preventing me from living
my life
because it no longer exists
without you, * * *.

I need a moment with my muse....
I need shadows in candlelight...
I need a "You're so ******* beautiful"...
To feel it, for a night.....
I need the pain as he bites me...
The taste of blood within my lips...
Only to be soothed by the gentle way
He slows his every kiss...
I need his searching fingers
And his lip stains on my skin
I need his cross upon my tongue
I need to relish in his sin....
I need a moment with my muse...
I'm dying fast inside
It seems without his smirk
I'm more dead than I'm alive
Just a few slow
Long hours
I swear,
I can't think
To even write.....

Unless it is about him
Then that's all there is
All night
Writing of my longing
Writing of this want
Writing to forget him
Though with writing
Not forgot
I swear
A tiny moment
So I can shut my eyes
Paralyzed upon his heart
Warm against his thighs
I just want to inhale him
A little piece of him
So that I may live a tad bit longer
To write of him again....
Though, I'm tired of writing missings
I rather write of memories
Newer and not old ones
They're fading
Don't you see....
I'm starting to diminish
My luster,
Getting dull
I need a moment with my muse
I need a moment to feel whole

Within his arms
To taste him
I'm a ranting
Lunatic
Moons and mainly midnights
Do drive me to be sick
Without him I am aching
A moment only
Please
Begging
Not an issue
I'm happy on my knees
Praying for his pleasure
Pleasing to be his
Simply
All I really need
Is a moment
That never ends.......

©MV (scribbling)

A casket
A journey, long road, comes to  an end
Life, perhaps mispent
But fate might always be smiling
Just beyond that coming bend

Broken bone
Calls to home but home is not wanted
Not mine to go, not mine, I grow
My own
From gardens of wilting blooms
Another season will see it soon

In comes the monsoon
Dripping life, drumming against the boards
Of a balcony where strumming I hum my lonesome song
Lamenting the ending of something gone wrong
Though this river's journey to the edge of the world
Has only just begun

Temporary regrets and missings
Of memories that crawl underneath your skin
With a flourish this night turns over its leaves
To reveal another day
You breathe out the ragged dusk
Shakes, bristles, shedding the husk
Avail the morning air
Lest the mourning of a midnight's dream
Breeds despair

February chills,
High kills,
Soft touches of skin
On skin. Breathing
Deep in the dim
Light of streetlamps
Borrowing needles
And comfort and stamps
To pretend
To end
To exist
With cysts and blood
And tears and floods
Of masochistic love
Of lonely tugs
Heartstrings and
Missings and kissings
And darkness
Always, always,
Darkness

cold and moons, eclipsed by the
shadow of that quickening starlight,
of the encroach, silently, of winter
misgivings, and missings;
lost and fallen in heaps and piles of
plated-snow: narrowing and narrowing.

you dare to reminisce at the dimming of the
night; waiting for the silent ceasing of that electric
light; smiling, for the warm fireside shingles and stones of such
delight; rising, persistent, reaching out to set the hilltops crimson and
alight.

I can feel you on the wind.
How it dances free and bold.
I feel you through the open window
Your spirit longing to show me your missings and love.

I can feel your hand brush away the tears from my eyes.
I can hear you through the trees, you flying so free.

Your choice to leave was forced,
I know the story well.
Its a hollow heaven when it starts with no goodbyes.
But you aren't gone completely,
I can feel you on the wind
oh, my uncle so kind.