and we wait,

   

 beneath crimson skies for hollow bells to ring. notes of
yesterdays yearning cast into tomorrows hopes. your eyes, dark as
midnight, glow in your amusement, you smile inwardly and i am the only
one who can see it.



my smiles are slight as we enter beneath the arches, grand and old. the
gargoyle grins intimate knowledge of how we loved last night. i slip my
hand into the crook of your arm and smile as you tighten to pull me
closer. your grace is unconcious, your presence contagious.

filtered light touches the dancing motes of dust that swirl about us in
a slow, stately waltz. tourists gaze beside us, their cameras flashing,
their voices whispering in muffled awe.



we slip out into the cemetary, solemn grey watchers of souls departed
greet us. our words are silent, the conversation internal. our game of
hide&seek is found deeply laden with blasphemy and we are gently
asked to leave.



laughter unburdened by sorrow, lips as sweet as honeysuckle nectar,
inhaled breath deeply tinged with the heaviness of jasmine, your touch
tattoes my skin.



and if this is simply pleasure for pleasures sake. then so be it.



    you have unhinged my wings, set my pen to paper with the finest ink.

       so these days that pass too quickly

             be it with a lover i could never keep

                   i would not trade for the world.

the shadows chase one another through the yard, they flirt and mingle and laugh at a cadence all their own.

my preoccupations have held me captive, the boulevards and alleyways, avenues and highways, modes of transport

Tonight is a night for wayward respite.

I said that I wouldn’t write about you anymore

Like a neruda poem you were a couplet whose use had been overwrought and one that I would avoid delving into. And yet, months past our supposed demise – our inability to speak on normal terms- our inability to talk at all

I had thought to use you for a play that I was going to write but I found that when I began to compose the words – that perhaps straying into that territory was not something that I really wanted to do

I have moved from slight infatuations with boys that I will never meet to crushes on boys who love someone else. It is not a healthy way to move past you but who ever said that I chose the healthiest route?

What did you want me to say?

I was never able to convey in words the emotions that you confused me with

These orange and pear still life portraits are not enough anymore

They are meaningless dribble that I play with, another method of bullshitting my way through my inability to accept love where it is offered and instead to play in the endless game of singality.

It never bothered me before, this lack of a significant other – my inability to accept affection and just let it be.

I sit and stand on the public transit systems and compose words that I never write down, they flow with a melancholy pose that I cannot transcribe

And when I have pen and paper at my disposal I am unable to convey these images to paper

I do not want to live this way forever

~

I feel like these days circle about themselves like vultures descending upon a carrion of deceased prey.

A murder of crows is all I need sometimes but the sky is overly crowded with songbirds migrating to fairer sights.

They stand outside. The shadows are muted and the glow from the patio doors is a forgotten piece of the background. They are focused on each other, at the task at hand.

~

these days are singularily galling and inspiring. which to hold on to?

“are you looking forward to seeing me?”

“of course i am.”

~

these days pose for pictures no one takes – i had left a note to myself to write about the rainstorm we had some time ago – nothing quite takes my breath away or stirs my need to write something meaning-full as raindrops pounding down – ruminations of a dilated mind -

there are plots about – revolving around a girls night out – to the local goth club –

whispers tantalize – but if you do not listen – they do not tease -

downpours and lightning

sultry kisses of an oft forgotten goodbye, imagined letters returned to those without the courage to send them, whispered desires hanging in the cold night air.

playing with words for no reason but to revel in the way they slip and slide through your fingers.

waking up from a dream where your hand slid down my body ever so slowly, from a place where i could feel your lazy smile daring me to pretend like i was still sleeping, waking to a chill that forces me to pull my blanket tighter around my skin, to gather warmth from memories long buried.

wilting hellos – decadent smiles – ears that stretch to capture a phrase that turns -just- so

wish upon a shooting star. take pictures of a moose. wake up spooning with a stranger. kiss someone and take their breath away.

if it makes you happy. then why the hell are you so sad?

wish i knew.

perhaps i am a fool for dreaming this.

but i cannot stop.

i cannot undream.

this new skin unnerves me –
    this new face that i turn to the sun – devoid
of the need that has driven me -
    it is disturbing and i am still cautiously
stilling into its descent
    i do not know if finding that i am enough will calm
the storm of wariness that has taken
    the well worn warmth of inadequacy.

so now -
    these quiet wings take you over – these times of softness and regret – to see beneath the hard casing that surrounds – the eyes that ache – the tears that brim – it all seems to fall apart at the seams if someone does not hold fast.

crimson seas – dark maroon eddies of blood too quickly dried -

totem lies for spiritual growth – hastily thrown up idols to save us from these craven desires – leather tied bruises blacken perfect flesh -

do you burn as brightly as i do -

flames lick touch smolder in their caress – blue heated threats beat strong in the chest of any hot blooded pyro –

the knife’s edge is a dangerous place
to walk
    a dangerous place to tread
a crazy place to stay.