The Gift and the Curse

what i thought i had lost,

a love that would never return,

now fulfills distant dreams-

an unanticipated ecstasy.

but while caught in the midst of it,

how is it that i still think of you?

the one who got so close but still so far away,

the one who buried me deep,

with a voice kept on repeat,

i can’t seem to make that voice,

or those words, go away.

how is it that ‘i keep coming back

to your shores’?

how is it that i keep hoping for more

when i know nothing

will ever come of this?

does the music ever provide the answers

or does it only tell us what we wish to hear?

One More Moondance, My Love

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN: https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-eight-09-06-2020

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us,
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. It
was our first song, my first song sung to me. And to this

day, the smile, the tone of your voice, the way you
captured me, still sends shivers right through me.
From the first taps of the piano to the trumpet blaring

three-quarters of the way through, it all sends me back
to you. I halt everything to remember your voice, your smile,
to be wrapped in a moment with you once again.

in your flood

one step out the door
one step forward
one step closer
to the flood

one step backwards
one step in reverse
one step away
from drowning

a punch to the gut
and tears streaming,
more than the smiles
more than the ‘i love you’s

and how many more years like this
how much can i take like this

i agreed to ever after
but this now, these lows
i can do without
i barely survive the crash
before the next one arrives

give me time to breathe
give me time to survive
give me time in the clearing
before i drown
in your flood

In Your City

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN: https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-seven-08-30-2020

eyes squeeze shut all at once with
wishes whispered under breaths to be
anywhere else, anywhere cooler than

the constant heatwave of near 100 degrees.
Toes dip into makeshift sandy beaches
along the city’s river while children

play in water fountains next to erected sandcastles.
But here in my city, it’s another monotonous
day. I am wide-eyed making 11:11 wishes to be

with you in your city, your heatwave, along your river,
walking the streets when it’s your midnight.
My sweat drips waiting for you to wipe it away.

I’m waiting for the days where we open windows
to a gentle breeze and kick away the sheets for relief.

Perfect Mirrors

I looked for you
to find a perfect mirror
to find myself in you
to find that I was not alone
and you, too were suffering
and needed love that ran deep

The deepest rivers and canyon ridges had nothing on us
deep from our core we raised hot magma
we held the building blocks
we already suffered from the burn
and now we’re ready for the reward

Deconstruction Site

How many times do we take
the leap before we realize
we’ve jumped in too deep

How many times do we stop
to realize we need to
protect our insides

How many times does this heart
have to break; this love,
you too shall take

He was the one healing
the deepest scar,
the wound he created,
only to tear it apart
as he twists the knife
churning everything
inside of me

Dear love

Dear love,
Thoughts of you the other day brought smiles. Today thoughts of you produced overrun swells in my eyes. The many years we’ve been separated, but how our hearts have always been close, how many more years will it be like this? Living in fantasy and memories all of the time is no way of living. The truth of what can never be, will I ever set these feelings free? This arrested state of bliss, of dreaming of our next kiss… and the pain of knowing that it may be a million years away. We’re so close yet always out of reach. I sit and dream of you, and wonder… will our dreams ever come true.

Undying Flame

Images and words
suddenly appear,
words I’ve longed for
hitting deep
as they wrap around
and envelop me,
overwhelming yet satisfying.

Since our last meeting
your ghostly presence arrived
in the oddest of places:
romantic restaurants,
quaint cafes,
art galleries,
long car drives,
concert halls,
walking in a park,
every room of the house,
and late at night in bed.

Days leading up
to the most significant life events,
it was you
always there
intervening
and me not finding the right words
to express the emptiness,
the loss,
the longing,
the wanting.

Reunions are great, they say,
as long as you don’t have to deal with the past,
as long as it doesn’t control your present, and
as long as the flame doesn’t consume you.

Yet, here I am standing steadily in the burning flames with you again.