often, late
at night
i wait for you in
the corner of
my bed
as though you’ll
show
and guide me
by the hand
over to an open
window
to stare down
the moon together,
although i know
better.
loneliness
why not meet me
up a tree?
and let’s see if we
can sleep,
while night wind
nips our
limbs
the stars
dim.
puddles formed
around my
feet
in the center of
a crowded
room,
i spotted you
across the
eyes
wondering if your
shoes were
soggy
too.
in
shyness,
i’ve turned down
your hand,
in
resistance,
i’ve guarded my
island
and watched as
you circle
secretly wishing you’d
wash up on
shore,
in
shyness,
i’m lost on
land.
harmful were
desires
born from within a
lonely place,
and acrid was
the taste
of desperation
we perspired.
a moment
away
was all i needed to
miss home,
and in filling this
free space
may i no longer
feel alone.
when i’ve ceased
climbing
for fear of
slipping
i’ve grown too known to
my surroundings
and miss the noise
of strangers,
but do they miss
my whisper
amidst the
blurred out crowd?
a wave to packed bus
rushing
away,
the lovelorn
shuffle
home..
to crash on
couch..
to revisit the
hours..
to loosen my
belt-
and smell summer
flowers.
caught a
spark,
boxed it up in
wooden
heart–
saved for warmth
starved
night,
when deeply
in want
of
your crackling
bright.
hands in the garden 
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