winter fell like
it knew us
and had seen this
time before..
we got too lost to
notice weather,
worried it may
snow forever.
abstract
held that kiss so long
in mind
it could not
deliver–
merely flirting with
a deeper
bond
than had
been considered.
met you in the
waiting
room,
where that big hand
never moves
and our tears don’t
run anymore
four drained
eyes
aimed at the
floor.
on
a bench..
the sea is
swoll,
seagulls are
loud,
few kids are
here
to skip their
stones–
i hear them
squeal,
on
a bench
with much
to feel.
like winter
storm
with little
warning
she blinded me
so gracefully..
so grateful to
be buried.
wiped a snowflake
from your
cheek,
assuming it
was wept,
but a stain of
white was
left
upon skin where
winter
bled.
tomorrow in
a bottle,
today’s washed
up on shore
to escape cold city’s
confines
on a quest for
so much
more.
harmful were
desires
born from within a
lonely place,
and acrid was
the taste
of desperation
we perspired.
all this hoping
without
moving
is like waiting out
the winter
with a grudge
draped over my shoulder,
believing it will
remedy
my distaste
for cold.
is this naked me
before
you
the soul you
wish to
see
or shall you ask
me not so
gently
to cover up
and flee?
hands in the garden 
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