I feel guilty,
grabbing a drink first thing in
The mourning.

Only then
I look at my phone
and see that it is 12pm

And everything feels alright again.

My timing is off
The bricks are laid
A fallen trail
Of pretty little
Puzzle pieces
Substitutions
That print and press
All the sickness left
I'm tired
Of making it less
Euphemism
Never did the trick
It sugar coats
It tastes too thick
Rain will hit
And quick tossed
Trail crossed
Will melt away
That imaginary
*******
That you
Always create

Can we pretend for a bit,
                that every day is a bicycle waltz?

That every day is filled,
                filled with wine and whiskey love.

And skin feels like heaven,
               when no one is watching it touched.

That your body & my body,
               will never grow tired of the endlessness of each other's.

Everyday should be a bicycle waltz,
               With you my dear,
                                      *my immeasurable amount of intangible motion.

gentle awareness as though you've
framed my heart in roses while I
slept atop the pellows