in
silence
our needs are
met
and within its solace
rings the voice
of truth.
abstract
there’s no reason
to push
when it’s clear
there’s no
give
in the game i’ve
returned
from
in much need
of rest.
came to the table
already
full
of empty
conversation
and stripping
sarcasm,
i nursed a cheap drink
and caught my
reflection
at the bottom of
the glass.
spin our song
again
so i may tease out
new notes
and catch fresh
inflections
in the symphony you
express.
in wild horses
i see your
eyes
taking to the
meadows
with fire in that
stride,
twilight in your
hair,
ignore my
stare.
the mere mention
of your
life
brings me eye to
eye with
mine
to ponder questions
i can’t ask
because it’s out
of my hands.
the rust baked
skyline
hovers like a
jagged
smile
not a mile from
where i gaze
and inhale
its bitter breath.
should i make it
to fifty
i’ll have solved
a mystery
which has long plagued
the senses
and kept me from
finding home.
please, a moment
longer
for me to gather
thoughts
and throw them
at the wall,
to watch them
stick..
or not.
made
an excuse
of our precious time
together,
and now i’d offer
my last drop
of truth
to waste it
all again.
hands in the garden 
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