#alittlebitofanightmusing

Three months since we had last held any hands;

we don’t talk anymore and we don’t even glance.

As perchance my vestiges scatter in advance.

We got caught up and mixed up

that it didn’t matter on the stance.

Are we feeling mad or are we trance?

The music still rings from that Saturday’s dance.

Where’d you go -

because none of my past understands.

It’s like a dream where I get laughed at

for not having any pants.

Write my epitaph as if I’ve just about had it with romance.

I know words which work women’s breath away

like hands reaching out in the bedroom dark.

Grips around the neck choke with debt to pay -

the letters fit too tight and the wounds mark.

I know women’s words with which wonder

and looks that can snap loud and the heels crack.

Their broken poetry hits like thunder

where all the landscape gets blown and reeled back.

We don't

love the same

and that means winter

starts with you.

Your coldness to the touch

sends yourself back

in to caves, back into your

self, while my ignited torch

sends me out in to the open

where I'm already used to

fighting anything that moves.

We don't love the same

so don't come out of your

cave because my love

will only kill you too.

Let me start with thoughts,

that I can never truly complete,

and turn them into words

that float

all hollow

and shimmering

until

a cluster forms sentences

that I never really just say

from my mouth.

Ever wanted something so badly,

even after you had it,

you still couldn't have it?

Who is it that comes and goes who leaves impressions via love as she  knocks on my door? Who died in here and made me king as now the  peasants do kneel and  love me more? Who did  I  become so easily with questions in my eyes as though I know  who the world adores? Who cares who's who - in a realm of  iridescence my fate  is the same as yours.

If love exists then there needs to be a way it's true. If you love me then you just need to say you do. Say it like you mean it, Say all the things that you wish came to you.

Last night you asked me why is the sky blue. I still don’t know the answer but it was easier to give a lie. Then I asked myself last night why I did so and gave myself the truth. Just ask me again and I’ll give a changed reply because I’m not who I was last night and I’ll keep changing I’ll never be the same.

I can’t tell if this flower actually loves me but she keeps letting me smell her aroma. Deep zephyr, I close my eyes and hope she does the same. On my mind are things I would do for her little white, I’m only getting ash gray and mysterious cobalt.