Tuesday, May 25, 2010


She visits me in the sea of my subconscious,

a smiling collage of kisses and curses

interspersed in her hair

like wild overgrown wheat falling

in a golden brown

sheet about her shoulders.

Owner of an affixed stare,

twin emerald snares

that groped through many

untold doldrums and left

me stunned dumb

whispering for her

pawing, bleary-eyed

through Dutch gut ruts.

Longing for her,

I still smolder in the furnaces

of what could have been,

partially melted down,

I am a molten boulder,

buckling under the memories

of symphonies made after hushed

I love it when you have me on my hands and knees

to curled-lip arguments,

slag-hot snarled statements like

You don’t love me enough to call me your girlfriend.

Although our time together met a rough end,

there’s no malice I wish

although plenty I would repent,

but I miss the nights we spent as

intertwined constellations with

stellar intent.

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