“these streets aren’t
for people”
you said,
from your crack in
the wall,
i stepped out to
prove you
wrong
to prove i could
still get on
with..
strangers are now
all that i
know.
shadow play
life
is brief–
but today’s a never
ending tale..
and details of yesterday
can’t help but
sound stale.
we were kindling
for a fire..
we knew would dim
by morning
but surrendered
our hearts
gladly
to
the
flames
vowed we’d not
lose touch
then found ourselves
distracted by
attractions..
still, i miss you
much.
drank my
fill,
spilled from
the tank,
stained fresh
grass,
let chances pass
like ships
and watched them
fade into the
distance.
do you boast a faith
strong enough
to feel..
the years as they
flash forth
for their final
release?
it may come
as little surprise..
i’m not prepared
to tender
my
goodbyes.
i watched
you..
pop out of
that portrait frame
and take life by
the eyes,
seeming more at ease
in motion
than plastered pretty
on a wall.
i don’t fall
often,
though when
i do..
it shakes the
ground–
and wakes all resting
beasts around,
so i step with
caution..
too
often..
with feet made
of cotton.
i’m just static on
your screen,
turn me off to get
a good night’s
sleep
you’re a noise
stream
rushing into placid
dreams.
half grin
on a full moon..
perched over
deep frets,
i need not a nightlight
to know you’re
here yet.
hands in the garden 
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