I want to inhale you like cool moonlight.
Like I would seek a taste of fine wine,
swirling round, teasing my mouth
I want to devour spoonsful of you sweet
and warm like honey in slow dripping sips,
slipping my tongue between slippery lips.
I want to love you again and again.
Until you're so happy you could cry,
And this is why my wondering sighs
Cannot provide for you my truth.
This is why my eyes cannot lie, and so,
I avoid your gaze in shame.
Shame,
Be it my name.

Though dry I may yet drown
In the past life of another
Peering out with blue-grey eyes

Hard frost stilled my early morning
In splintered shards that pierced the sky
Cold air lacking in weight and time

On that frosty frigid morning,
I too was someone’s child.
Peering out with blue-grey eyes

There among the broken bottles
Rusted cans and oily puddles
Are cigarette butts and lace *******,
Left lying on newspaper spread for the fun
A stark testament on newsprint
near crunchy old eggshells
all these touched by the cold morning sun
and me against the wall, just staring
frozen inert, thoughts muddled and numb

Recently I have become confused
over all but my love for her food.

As slow as a milkshakes release,
My thickening thoughts,
Now turn moldy as cheese;

Still for me no sustenance shows,
angry my stomach growls as it groans.

My sugary cascade no longer is sifting
Flour and yeast on air currents drifting
Honied love buns, no more to be lifting

Her menus are missed, entrées we shared,
Her nourishment given, all with great care.

So long my old friend,
May you continue toast
May you continue to blend,
May you continue to roast

Release me please,
So as a ghost I may float,
Among all those lives,
Still living within me.
Distant their lights,
Stretched out long,
Myself a passenger,
Riding the wavelengths,
Of their radiant creation.
Between the clouds,
Wispy I will soar,
To bring them a song,
From passionate dreams,
where music is born.

With hues of rose and soft scented haze
A pale dusk light recoils under my door
Her welcome shimmer I will see no more
As her piercing absence distains my gaze.

Where now will my light live long and old,
Leaving haunted corners so drafty and cold?
Will my dark desires be free to soar?
As light retreats from under my door?

Curiously,
My books weigh no less,
after I read them.
But how can this be,
After so much they have given?