Quiver

To live inside a song lyric,
how precious that would be.
To cast aside the melancholy,
pleasant artifacts for you and me.

To walk on a movie set,
every line fed, better than the last.
The thrill of those first glances,
rewritten, another scripted romance.

To live inside this poem here,
dreading fear, knowing this will pass.
Lovers knocking buildings down,
pulling rubble from the ground
sharing affections of a world
left quivering.

Picture

Saw a photograph of you yesterday,

not sure we’re the same

I’m happy for you anyway.

Remember that time on the rocks, those moments on the beach, that single afternoon and the stars when the world went on snooze,
simply stopped being, like you and me?

The longest sigh, stretching from here to the moon.
Space rocks awaiting carved initals.
Lost underneath a giving tree.
Together in hidden view, a secret no one else could see.

I saw your photo and I knew.

Life moves, the stillness holds onto the tepid heart.

Each pulse broken in pixels and feigned happiness.

Your pic for someone else to adore,
Whoever that may be.
Saw you in a photograph and my small world reappeared.

Moment in time, dragging a curl into a smile.

Sinking

I’ll kill you with the last bite,
ejected from my stomach with forced might,
just so you could let me down easily
…it never does get easier from here.

I can’t take this anymore
but wait, I’ve said that a hundred times before.
Will this be the last time? (laughter abound)
I won’t be here to find out (heaving sound)
Killed by hindsight,
the pain of repetive spilled guts,
another lost fight.
A street corner, toiling for a warm drink,
Out of body, lost control,
or the rational ability to think.

Prepared to sink with this ship,
I’ll wait here til the next go around
Onlookers gawk at the final trip
those who knew watch me drown.

The view from the outside
worse with each blow.
The gutteral churn of a real-life,
B-rate horror show.

Presence

Whimsical mystique of this dance between you and me,
served us well in the looking glass self,
sky held down, knuckles out, primal wealth.

Stole a glance and begged for one more,
as lips quell for the return,
the heart suspended in air, head to floor.

The triumphant pulse of broken veneer, undercurrent hum of fluorescence,
quiet under sheets where not a soul could interfere.

Sweat infused satin, you trembling to never be left alone here.
My promise to come back to you,
pining for my flesh as I draw near.

Old Man

Is that me, staring back at me someday?
The old man in the window, holding the twilight’s last moments at bay.
All the thoughts of regretful stalmates, talking with little to say.

Is that you circling the block again, searching all you lost again?
Alone and fearful. This may be the end.
Looking as I pass, your nook hidden from the world, taken from lost daydreams unfurled.

Broken Winters, Endless Spring.

You and I, seated at crossroads where the horizon begs our hand for direction.