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.
poetry
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.
found me ready
to run
at first whiff of
a storm,
yet i stand here
in puddles
my gaze set
on yours.
a full moon shrouds
me full too,
though not
as magnificent,
nor able
to illuminate
those shy to
nighttime
in the same
enchanting way.
with a
whisper-
you drew me closer
than i’d been
before,
and when our lips
met i felt a
longing
stronger than my
fear of
more.
stirring coffee
for the
swirl..
it
spins
while foam
bleeds
in
as bubbles
separate.
take me..
like only you
know how
to hold me like
you do..
not need the same
from me..
though i’m pleased
to hold you
too.
hands in the garden 
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