the sixth sign temptress follows
the lion’s switching tail
he sits cross-legged and bare in
polaroids of the unstarted, finished
purged of possessions and salacity she
dips her toes in a sea of repose
goodbye, goodbye, musingly scribbled on
scrolls in each bottle floating by
no smell of wheat, bullish siren glow
alone again in polaroids
when september sunrise
through frosted window flows
i looked for completion of self
in bowls of porridge in your empty
three bedroom apartment
i string along pretty words
in private places hoping
you will find them
and i tuck every fortune
from your cookie jar
into my back pocket
I was not prepared
for the winds
to change
I was far too focused
on dusting my intentions
among the winds
of the masses
with hope that the
prettier
pieces
fell
gently
into
her
lap
(for the visual, here it is on my DeviantArt page: Click )
I’m not looking for
seat belts fastened
I’m not looking for
inspiration in this
I’m not looking for
you to say, “me too”
I’m not looking for
citizenship in the reality of my dreams
I’m not looking for
a scrapbook for my nametag
I’m not looking for
the smell of wheat on your forehead
I’m not looking for
your unrestricted laughter
I’m not looking for
your arms to uncross
I’m not looking for
paddles in fate’s canoe
I’m not looking for
everything in you
in a dream she came to me
and curled up in to sleep
she took a deep breath so slow
and whispered that she was home
Quiet nights spent
waiting, wishing
on quiet stars
Quiet nights spent
strumming your harmonics
on quiet guitars
Quiet nights spent
pitting ardor against reason
in quiet Martian wars
Quiet nights spent
waiting, wishing
on quiet stars
(the inspiration for this was found through borrowed lines in “Corcovado”)
there is beauty in the sadness
found in my happiness
there is beauty in the melancholy
found in the truth
there is beauty in the heartache
found in your antonyms
there is beauty in the blue
found in our disconnect
there is beauty, there is beauty
found in all of this
“( ) i…?”
“do you think that matters to me?”
“( ) if i…?”
“nope“
“( ) won’t you…?”
“i won’t“
“( ) when i…?
“it doesn’t matter“
“( ) you know i…?
“i do“
“( ) i didn’t know this was going to…”
“i know“
“( ) you…”
“yes”
“( ) when…?”
“i always have“
“( )…”
“( ) nothing.“
time will stop
the moment our lips spin the senses and
taste becomes touch and smell
&
books filled with the most clouted of poetry will crumble
the day you reach down to intertwine your fingers with mine and
touch feels like home
