let’s spill the
hours
and fill these
eyes
like tears may
bring us
peace..
of mind, we too
shall find
deep rest in slow
release.
poetry
comfort in cool
sheets
on a solitary
eve,
praying out the
window,
watching headlights on
highway
blur..
entrances me
to sleep.
flitting somewhere
in between
the day
and laments passed,
kindling any
ember
that may smolder
into memory.
holding space
for warmer thoughts
on night bereft
of spark
keeps the soul from
shivering,
two hands around
one heart.
winter fell like
it knew us
and had seen this
time before..
we got too lost to
notice weather,
worried it may
snow forever.
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.
hands in the garden 
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