how can you recall
the dates?
that blend into one
clanging
clock–
atop its ashy
mantle..
pleading to be
unwound
by next set of hands
to find it
making
that ungodly
sound.
shadow work
swift
to speak..
but slow to
love..
when push comes
to blush
and the game
proves
hard
i crumble like
a tower of
cards.
kisses
in waves,
a riptide
like blades,
tossed then dragged
to the bottom
where unseen and
unsafe.
they said
i’d dreamt you
better than i knew
myself,
though i’ve held you
real enough
to sense your
absence
from my book
shelf.
startled
by the sound
of my
imagination,
woken by a feeling
i assumed had
passed,
taken with a sight
that refuses
to let
go,
settled by the voice
of someone i
used to
know.
shadow passenger
on train
nods as he
passes
by,
i’ve never caught
his face,
although we’ve
met eye to
eye.
stepped through
a dream
and found myself trapped
in someone
else,
till i became the
voice
to summon my
release–
for the dream within
a dream to
cease.
you made room for
my words–
i crowded your
mind,
you offered real
time–
i seized more than
my share,
you proved that
you cared..
far more than
was fair.
a rain kissed
stroll..
past the old
haunt
reminds me why
we moved
and rekindles
wistful
mood.
“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.
hands in the garden 
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